


Whispers in Our Souls

by EzzyDean



Series: whispers [1]
Category: Free!, Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Developing Relationship, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Power of Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 16:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 73,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyDean/pseuds/EzzyDean
Summary: one day you stopped being skinned knees and scraped knucklesone day you stopped being wild ideasone day you took all the stars and dreams you had spread across your ceiling and sealed them in a jar, high on a shelfyou can look, but don’t touchout of sight, out of mindone day you will clean out your childhood with shaking handsthe jar will tip and you will reach out, streaking dusty glass and glimpsing the stars inside yourselflet it shatter(a soulmate au where your soulmate isn't necessarily the love of your life, sometimes you have to find yourself, and sometimes you can't until someone finds you first and drags you kicking and screaming into a new adventure)





	1. the post that starts it all

**Author's Note:**

> While the relationships in this fic are important they're not really the focus so I opted to leave them out of the tags and list them here (some ships are pre-fic and some develop during the fic):
> 
> MakoSei  
> SugaMatsu  
> KageAi  
> AsaKuro  
> AoDai  
> AkaSuga  
> BokuYachi  
> OMC/OMC
> 
> and a whole cast of various levels of assorted soulmates, friendships, enemies to friends, and the like.

When he looks back on it someday he already knows he’ll have no one to blame but himself.  He’s the one who brings it up to Suga and Daichi.  He’s the one that writes the post.  He’s the one that clicks the upload button.

 

 

_ Just a quick favor to ask of all my amazing readers who go to B University.  Trying to find out who was around one of the courtyards on Friday the 5th.  Looking for people who were in the little courtyard with the Gardening Club’s statue on display - the one with the teeth and the ears and the questionable bow tie you all know which one I mean - near the north entrance just before 11. _

_ Some friends and I are looking for someone who said something that none of us can agree on.  Yeah I know it sounds silly but anyone who knows my friends would understand.  They heard one thing I heard another and now we just keep bringing it up. _

_ So we’re looking for people who were there to try and clear a few things up for us.  _

_ If anyone remembers anything we would love it if you got a hold of us! _

_ (I promise it’s not as ominous as it sounds.  My friends are just dramatic sometimes.) _

_ Thanks in advance everyone! _

__ _ -Crow A _

 

 

Suga wants more details in the post.  Daichi worries they already sound kind of stalkery.  Asahi still wonders if it was a good idea to let his two best friends know what exactly it was he did as a job while he attended university because ever since he did they are constantly sending him stuff to post about.  Some of it is relevant.  Most of it is ridiculous links to just about everything under the sun.  Daichi is allowed to occasionally post something (after Asahi approves it) and Suga still hasn’t forgiven either of them for that completely since Suga has been banned from even commenting on any of Asahi’s posts.  But Asahi is pretty sure that Suga is stealing his roommates computer and phone to leave comments anonymously from time to time.

 

Comments start appearing within minutes -  _ Crows Remember _ is pretty much the only site of its kind in the area and a lot of people subscribe to updates.  Most of them are just comments of passing the link on to other students.  Some are people making up silly theories about why they want to know who was around - the first one is talking about an alien abduction that happened so they need to know who was around so they know whose memories to erase and Asahi wonders if he should let Oikawa know that he knows that i _ _B_lieve _ is him and ask why he’s subscribed to post updates on a site about a university that he doesn’t attend.  Then he decides he’s not ready to confront that particular can of worms and goes back to his homework instead.

 

 

“How’s it going?”  Momo peeks into Asahi’s room.  “And did you want food?”

 

“My homework or the post?  Also food sounds awesome as long as you didn’t cook it.”

 

Momo makes an offended noise.  “Hey I mix up cinnamon and curry powder one time-”

 

“And I never trust you to cook for me again.  Yes.  And it was three times, Momo, not just once.”

 

“Whatever.  Ai brought home food.  And for the record I meant your homework but now I don’t care.” 

Momo heads back towards the kitchen yelling at Ai about how mean Asahi is and how he doesn’t know why he moved in now since he’s being treated so meanly.  Ai shouts something back about Momo never actually being asked to move in and Asahi turns back to submit his homework, easily ignoring the bickering coming from the kitchen.  If nothing else his years at Karasuno taught him that skill for sure.

 

 

He skims the comments before he goes to bed but nothing really jumps out at him as relevant yet.  It probably won’t get them any leads but for the chance to figure out just what the heck happened and where that voice in his dreams has disappeared to he thinks it’s worth it.  It might have been a weird sentence to wake up to floating in his mind every single day but it had been a sort of comfort to have it there no matter what.  Asahi drags Stuffinpants under the covers with him and buries his face in the bear’s worn stomach, glad he still has at least one forever familiar comfort with him now.

 

 

Ai is sitting at the table the next morning frowning down at his breakfast and rubbing at his temple when Asahi shuffles in stifling a yawn.

 

“Headache?”  Asahi settles across from him after quietly getting his own breakfast ready.

 

“I don’t know.  I feel like I’ve got a bunch of other voices in my head talking about random stuff and it’s hard to concentrate.  It doesn’t quite hurt?  But it’s weird.”  Ai shakes his head and manages to eat a few bites before rubbing at his temple again.  “Its been like this since the other day.  You know.”

 

Asahi knows; since the day they had woken up without hearing their soulmates’ voices following them out of their sleep.  The stories go that once you come of age and hear your soulmate’s voice in person you no longer hear them in your dreams just before you wake.

 

He hadn’t really thought about it until he overheard Ai saying something to Momo that night.  The next morning he realized that he hadn’t heard it either and brought it up to Ai and then later Suga and Daichi.  That’s when they realized that all four of them had apparently found their soulmates without realizing it and Suga had come up with a plan for them to try and figure out who once they had narrowed it down to a possible when.  Momo had actually been the one to suggest it was at the courtyard since he had been on the phone with Ai at the time and remembered Ai mentioning seeing Asahi nearby so it was the most logical conclusion as to when it happened.

 

Then Momo had scoffed and pouted when Asahi and Ai both gave him surprised looks because while they both knew Momo wasn’t exactly stupid he wasn’t usually the one to come up with the logical suggestions in any situation.

 

“Have you had anything new happen?” Ai asks softly, rubbing at his temples.  Asahi shakes his head.

 

“Suga’s got marks on his fingers.  Daichi hasn’t noticed anything that I know of and I haven’t seen or felt any different since then.  Just the lack of voice when I wake up.”  Asahi sighs.  “Maybe this post will net us something to work with.  Are you going to be able to handle your shift at the shop today?”

 

“Yeah I’ll manage.  Like I said it doesn’t hurt or anything it’s just a little distracting.”

 

“Okay.”  Asahi finishes his breakfast in silence, keeping an eye on his roommate who. truthfully, doesn’t seem to be in pain.  He just keeps pausing and scrunching his face like he can’t quite figure out something someone said and then shaking his head.  “Just let me know if you need anything.  I’ve only got a half day today because of the renovations.”

 

Ai waves him off with a small smile.

 

 

 

Yachi practically dives into Tobio’s bed and he grunts when she lands directly on top of him.

 

“Tobio look!  It’s not just us!”  She holds her tablet over his face and makes an angry  noise when he doesn’t open his eyes right away.

 

“I was sleeping.  I don’t have class until late and morning practice was canceled so they could repair the bleachers.  I was going to sleep in.”

 

Yachi scoffs at him.  “You’ve been awake for at least half an hour.  You’ve just been pretending not to be so I’d cook breakfast.  Which I did.  You’re welcome.”  She shakes her tablet a little until he groans and peels his eyes open.  He slides an arm around her waist and taps at the screen with his other hand.

 

He reads Asahi’s article, skims the comments, and then scrolls back up to reread the article just to be sure - he’s been having more trouble than usual focusing on things the last few days.

 

“Do you think they had something happen too?”  Tobio can’t remember for sure who all was there that day.  But he does remember walking through the courtyard while on the phone with Hinata and giving a distracted wave to Yachi who was talking to one of her classmates.  The only reason he and Yachi thought the courtyard had something to do with waking up the next morning soulmate-voiceless was because it had happened to both of the them on the same day and finding a soulmate was unheard of enough.  But for two of them to find a soulmate on the same day in different parts of town?

 

Really they had just been grabbing at straws trying to figure things out themselves before asking around.  Tobio disliked most crowds to begin with and since that day he’s found it hard to concentrate, scraps of conversations he doesn’t remember having floating through his head in his soulmate’s voice like mocking reminders.  Yachi has been extra emotional and easily excited and distracted since that day and her usually nonexistent temper has been flaring up at the smallest inconvenience and, honestly, finding their soulmates was the only explanation they had for their sudden ailments.

 

“I think it couldn’t hurt to talk to Suga about it.  Even if it’s not the same thing maybe he can help us figure it out?  I mean we’re not really getting anywhere on our own.”  Yachi suddenly sniffles and Tobio takes a fortifying breath, ready for the mood swing.  He plucks the tablet from her fingers and drops it on the floor before rolling over and burying Yachi in his blanket and dropping his weight onto her.  Turning her into a blanket burrito has always been the quickest way to head off a teary mood and he’s just glad that even with the sudden amplification of her moods it still works like a charm.

 

She bursts out laughing and wriggles around trying to get loose.

 

“Okay I get the point,” she giggles.  “I’ll send Suga a text later.  We’ll get to the bottom of things and hopefully you can stop spacing out more than usual too.”  Tobio blinks, half a conversation flitting through his mind, and then huffs at her, settling his weight comfortably on her and dozing off again.  It wasn’t often he got to skip morning practice and he wanted to enjoy it.

 

 

Hitoka sends Suga a text and then slips her phone into her bag, trading it for her notebook and favorite pen, and waits for class to start.  She’s trying to remember who all she saw in the courtyard that day but isn’t sure she’ll be much help.  Most of her attention had been focused on Yamazaki complaining about having to volunteer at a daycare or some kind of place with kids for the business project they were partnered up on.  

 

Yamazaki.

 

She gasps and looks around the room for him, waving excitedly when she spots him walking in the door, and is practically vibrating with excitement when he sits next to her and gives her a wary look.

 

“Did you forget to put coffee in your sugar this morning or what?”  He digs a notebook out and then plucks her pen from her hand and starts doodling on the cover.

 

 

“You were at the courtyard a couple days ago.”

“Yeah.  I was talking to you.”  He taps the pen against her forehead.  “Did you forget or something?”

 

“No but-” the teacher starts class and she sighs.  “Just don’t leave right away I wanna talk to you about something please.”

 

 

Sousuke listens to Yachi’s ramblings, and has to make her slow down twice because she gets so wound up he doesn’t even think she’s speaking the same language.

 

“So did anything happen to you?”  She finally asks.  Her voice drops to a whisper.  “Did you wake up without your soulmate’s voice Saturday?  Has anything strange been happening?”

 

He thinks back to the uncanny silence he woke up in.  To the unusual urges he’s been having to go looking for someone.  He has no idea who or why but he keeps wanting to turn right instead of left and keeps feeling that itching sensation like he’s forgetting to meet someone somewhere even though he hasn’t made plans.  He had been almost ten minutes late to work Saturday afternoon because he had walked five blocks in the wrong direction thanks to that urge before he caught himself.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Yachi sighs at him like the world is ending and, while always easily excitable, he doesn’t remember her ever being quite this dramatic before.

 

“Okay, just.  There’s a local site,  _ Crows Remember _ , one of my senpai from high school runs it.  He made a post asking for people who were in the courtyard around the same time as us to get a hold of him and I asked one of my other senpai and he said that the reason they were looking is because all three of them - as best as they can remember - woke up without their voices Saturday morning.  So did Tobio and I.  That’s at least five of us.  And if you did too that’s six.  This is more than just a weird coincidence don’t you think?  Aren’t you curious?  Even a little?”

 

“Even if I am what do you want me to do about it, Yachi?  I wasn’t exactly scoping out the courtyard that day.  And I don’t even know for sure if anything has happened.  The only thing I know is that I’m going to be late to meet Makoto and our weirdo friends if I don’t head out.”

 

Yachi rolls her eyes at him and makes shooing motions.

 

“Fine.  Go out to eat with your boyfriends.  Have a nice date.”

 

Sousuke growls a little and Yachi laughs at him.

 

“If that’s the case go run on home to your boyfriend.”

 

“Tobio and I aren’t dating.”

 

“Neither are any of my friends and I.  But at least I’ve never made out with any of them.”

 

Yachi’s face turns pink as she huffs at him and smacks his arm.

 

“It was one time, it was purely platonic, and it was fun.  Now go.  I don’t want your not-boyfriends to get mad at me for you being late.”

 

Sousuke ruffles her hair and jogs off towards the nearest train station, putting all thoughts of the courtyard and everything else out of his mind and focusing on not accidentally deciding he needs to get on the wrong train.  Again.

 

At least he forgets about it until Makoto brings up the post while he, Mikoshiba, and Sousuke are waiting for Haru to show up at the diner after his last class of the day.

 

“Do you really think it could be a thing?”  Makoto asks after Sousuke tells them about what Yachi had said.  “I mean, we’re up to almost ten people we know of who woke up the next day like that.  And so far we were all at that courtyard at more or less the same time?”  Makoto’s voice drops, much like Yachi’s had, and he leans across the table a little.  “Do you think we all found our soulmates at once?  That’s just…”

 

“Mind boggling.”  Mikoshiba supplies and tugs Makoto back so he can rest his arm back around his boyfriend’s shoulders.  “It really is hard to believe.  But I suppose it’s not impossible.  There’s still a lot of shit no one knows about soulmates.”

 

Sousuke is still a little surprised at how well both Makoto and Mikoshiba have taken the discovery that they’re not each other’s soulmates.  Though he figures they were intending on making their relationship work knowing they weren’t soulmates before.  But it has to be weird knowing you love someone but neither of you are the universe’s ‘perfect match’ for the other.  He wonders what that entails.  If it’s someone to balance you out, to calm your rage and whatever, or if it’s someone who has similar ideals as you or what.  Mikoshiba’s right.  There’s a lot about soulmates that no one knows largely because the world is so huge that soulmates rarely seem to meet and the ones that do are always at least nineteen so many have already started on their lives and refuse to let the whole soulmate business steer them off course.

 

So of course Sousuke somehow managed to be part of a group of at least ten people, possibly a dozen given he already knows at least six of them aren’t his soulmate, that all found each other at once.  Rin was going to die laughing when he found out.  But Sousuke wasn’t planning on telling him until he at least figured out who the hell his soulmate apparently was; probably the rest of his friends as well.  Because Rin would want details.  About all of them.  And the last thing Sousuke feels like dealing with is Rin pestering him for answers he just doesn’t have.

 

He scratches at his wrist, that feeling that he needs to get up and go meet someone and he’s running late for it prickling at his pulse, and the motion catches Mikoshiba’s attention.

 

“You okay?”

 

Sousuke makes a displeased noise at the attention when Makoto turns to him as well.

 

“I just-” he waves towards the windows vaguely, “-feel like I’m late meeting someone or something.  I dunno.  It’s strange.”

 

“Hey I keep thinking someone’s saying something to me even when I’m by myself.”  Mikoshiba shrugs.  “It’s been a weird few days.”

 

Makoto yawns and rubs at his face tiredly.  The diner door opens and Sousuke sighs in relief.  He’s never been more glad to see Haru.  Hopefully it will bring a change in topic, or at least turn the spotlight from him.  He really could do without talking about his feelings.

 

“Ah, Haru!”  Makoto calls out happily.  The surprised sound that comes out a second later has Sousuke looking up from his water glass.  Haru is walking over towards them with the same expressionless face he always wears in public but even Sousuke can see the sheen of emotion in his eyes.  He’s not sure what emotion it is exactly but it’s there.  The thing that makes Sousuke echo Makoto’s surprised noise is the fact that Haru has the jacket sleeve of some guy at least half a foot taller than him with short spiky white hair in a near death grip and is leading him down the aisle towards their back booth.

 

They stop a step away and while Haru and Makoto have one of their silent conversations Sousuke itches at his wrist again and takes in the guy.

 

“This is Aone,” Haru suddenly says, glancing around at each of them.  “He’s my soulmate.”  Someone clears their throat and Haru lets out a weary sigh the likes of which he usually reserves for Sousuke.  “And that’s Futakuchi,” he says dryly.

 

“Haru.  Are you sure?”  Makoto sounds hopeful but cautious and Haru huffs a little and pushes up the sleeve of his too large sweatshirt.  There’s colorful blotches along his forearm, too colorful to be bruises but they’re obviously not smears of paint, and he turns his arm over to expose the pale underside and glances up to Aone.

 

Aone swallows and darts a glance at them then the guy behind him says something softly and he nods in reply.

 

Then he reaches out and gently rests his fingertips on Haru’s arm.  They all stare in amazement as colors bloom and bleed from the points of contact.

 

“Holy shit,” Mikoshiba finally says softly.

 

“That was my reaction,” the guy behind Aone says.  He tilts to the side and gives them all a little wave.  “Futakuchi Kenji.  Aone’s best… friend.”  His voice falters when he meets Souske’s eyes and that itch in his veins gives a sharp pinch.

 

Sousuke swears softly and Aone glances from him to Futakuchi and back again.

 

Fuck his entire life of course Haru is the one that literally leads Sousuke’s soulmate to him.

 

 

 

 

_ Hoots has invited Keiji to chat _

_ Hoots: hey Akaashi you have to hear this _

_ Hoots: tell him bro! _

_ Cats Eye: short version I’m pretty sure Kouta and I found our soulmates. _

_ Cats Eye: not even joking _

_ Cats Eye: I haven’t heard the voice since Friday morning and Kouta said once he thought about it he hadn’t either _

_ Hoots: so we were wondering if you had too?  is it like some weird ass thing and the whole soulmate thing is over? _

_ Hoots: OH NO WHAT IF OUR SOULMATES ARE DEAD???? _

_ Keiji: please stop capslocking Bokuto.  I’m sure they aren’t dead. _

 

 

Someone further into the library starts laughing and Keiji glances towards the sound for a moment.  Now that he stops and thinks about it he doesn’t think he’s heard his soulmate’s voice since before the weekend.  He’s checking out his books when he catches a piece of the conversation behind him.

 

“You see that post on  _ Crows Remember _ ?  Crow A is looking for people who were in the courtyard with the bow tie sculpture on Friday.  Says it’s something about him and his friends arguing over what someone there had said that day.”

 

“I read it.  It reads more like someone had a missed connection than someone misheard a conversation.”

 

There are a hundred and twenty-seven unread messages in the chat by the time Keiji gets back to his dorm and pulls up the site on his computer.  He skims it once and then rereads it carefully.  The girls behind him in line were right.  It does sound like a missed connection post.  The question is who exactly were they trying to find.

 

 

 

_ Keiji: have you two read Crows Remember’s post from last night? _

_ Keiji: the one about the courtyard? _

 

 

 

Shun watches his roommate almost vibrating in his seat, switching from a nervous wreck to an excited puppy in a span of mere seconds.  He had tried to ask what was going on but Bokuto had hunched protectively over his keyboard and Shun had backed away.  He was being even weirder than usual.  His emotions had always been a little unpredictable but since this weekend they’d been almost frightening with how whip crack fast they’ve been changing.

 

“Holy shit,” Bokuto bursts out.  Then gives Shun an apologetic smile.

 

“Do I dare ask what’s going on?”

 

Bokuto types something to whoever he’s talking to and then after reading their response he nods.

 

“Okay.  So.  My best friend and I are pretty sure we met our soulmates and we’re pretty sure we narrowed it down and since you were totally there I asked if they wanted me to fill you in.”

 

Shun’s hands clench where they’re buried in his sweater sleeves but he nods encouragingly.

 

“Well neither of us, and now Akaashi said he hasn’t either so that’s three of us now, but none of us can remember hearing our soulmate’s voice since we woke up Friday.  And there’s this post on  _ Crows Remember _ , you know the site?”  Shun nods.  “Well there’s a post asking about who was in the bow tie courtyard Friday around eleven and it says there’s an argument about something they overheard but it sounds - and Akaashi agrees - more like they’re looking for a specific person or set of people.  So we’re thinking maybe one of them is one of our soulmates!  And since you were there with me I thought I’d ask you if you remember anyone specific or if you woke up without your voice or anything.  If you didn’t its okay it would just be so cool if you did you know?”

 

Shun takes a moment to process everything Bokuto just threw at him before he slowly uncurls his hands and slips them past his cuffs.

 

“I, uh, am pretty sure I must have run into my soulmate too,” he says.  Bokuto gasps and reaches out for Shun’s hands, looking at the colored bands on his left ring finger and right pinkie in awe.

 

“Dude.”  He looks close to tears and Shun smiles at him.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Bokuto gasps and rushes back to his laptop, typing at a speed that Shun is sure means more typos than real words.  Shun, on the other hand, picks up his phone and types out a calm message.

 

 

_ To: Kuroko Tetsuya _

_ Sub: soulmates _

_ So I’m pretty sure myself and at least four other people ran into our soulmates in the courtyard Friday.  You were there with Aomine right?  Either of you get hit too? _

 

_ From: Kuroko Tetsuya _

_ Sub: re: soulmates _

_ I hope you are not joking Izuki.  I haven’t figured out anything in particular but it was quiet when I woke up.  I will talk to Aomine and see what he says. _

 

_ To: Kuroko Tetsuya _

_ Sub: re: re: soulmates _

_ This is one thing that not even I would joke about Kuroko. _

 

 

“Okay.”  Bokuto bounces back over and flops onto Shun’s bed.  “Akaashi said he’s gonna try to get in touch with whoever runs the site and see how legit it is.  But he thinks we might all be part of something.  Maybe something huge.  I’m so excited.  Me.  Having a real soulmate.  And getting to meet them?  That’s-” Bokuto’s voice drops and he blinks rapidly and for a moment Shun thinks he’s about to burst into tears.  Then he swallows hard and grins at Shun.  “That’s amazing.”

 

“It’s something, that’s for sure.”  Shun can’t quite keep the butterflies in his stomach from fluttering with worry.  He’s not sure ‘something’ is even a proper word to describe the potential disaster this could be.  There haven’t been any documented soulmates found in years, maybe even decades, and here they were with at least two or three possible connections?  This could be a long school year.

 

 

 

Ryuu tosses his phone to Takao as soon as Takao steps into their dorm room.  His roommate reads the article and then looks at Ryuu with wide eyes.

 

“You think?”

 

Ryuu nods.  “Yeah.  Asahi is the one in charge of it.  Suga and Daichi are probably the friends he mentioned.  They wouldn’t fuck around with something like this.  Especially Asahi.  I think it’s legit.”

 

Ryuu chews at his lip while Takao rereads the article and then starts skimming the comments.  Takao’s rubbing his left pinkie while he reads and Ryuu can see glimpses of the shimmery rainbow band on his right ring finger as well.  Ryuu takes a deep breath when the overwhelming urge to panic hits him out of nowhere.  He has no idea why these bouts of panic and worry and unstoppable energy keep popping up but he’s pretty sure it has to do with the whole soulmate thing.  Anything he remembers reading mentions effects that happen because of a bond and that no two are alike and he just hopes that if he can find out who his soulmate is then whatever is happening with his bond will balance itself out because right now he feels like he has the emotions of at least three people running through him at any given time and it’s getting hard to focus on anything.

 

“Have you talked to these people -  Asahi or Suga - yet?”

 

“Nah I wanted to see what you thought, if you wanted me to mention you or not.”

 

Takao holds up his hand and stares at the band for a moment before tossing the phone back to Ryuu and then looking at the band on his other hand.

 

“Let’s do it,” he finally says.

 

They share matching grins as Ryuu picks up his phone and sends Asahi a message.

 

 

 

Asahi glances through the messages on his phone and the ones in his inbox that he had finally gotten sorted out.  He scrubs at his face with his hand for a moment with a groan.  Including himself there were twenty people.  Twenty people whose stories from that day seemed real.  Some of them - like Tanaka and Yachi - he knew were real just because they wouldn’t make it up.  He had to trust the ones from Makoto and, again, Makoto was not the kind of person to lie about this, especially not since it apparently involves his best friend.  As for the others Suga told him to trust Akaashi to be telling the truth.

 

Twenty people.

 

When the last documented soulmate connection he could find in the area had involved two people almost twenty years ago.

 

“Damn,” he mutters to himself.  He wonders how long they can keep this from blowing up in their faces.


	2. 20 20somethings walk into a library....

Going home, for Tetsurou, was not exactly the hugs and cuddles and good times that it was for other people.  Sure he liked to see his parents, liked to spend time in his childhood home.  But nothing really felt right there.  It was like it was some kind of set for a play and with each step from the station to his parents’ house he feels the mask of his role - the dutiful son who will make them proud - slipping into place.

 

As he wanders down familiar sidewalks and waves at neighbors who have known him since he could barely walk he wonders when coming home will actually feel like whatever he think it’s supposed to feel like.  Because he’s pretty sure the knot of nerves and the bundle of dread in his stomach shouldn’t be there when coming home.  The tension in his shoulders and the fluttering in his heart as well.

 

Kenma would be able to tell him, Tetsurou thinks, if he could bear to ask his best friend.

 

He’s a little afraid of what Kenma would tell him.  Kenma is, if nothing else, the most brutally honest person Tetsurou knows.

 

His parents greet him when he finally shuffles through the front door.  He smiles and nods and gives the usual answers - yes he’s doing well, classes are going good, no he hasn’t been sick at all so far, yes he remembered to call his grandmother on her birthday - and before long he’s sitting at the table with them, meal half finished.

 

“I, uh, met my soulmate.”  He works up the nerve to tell them somewhere between his tenth bite and third long drink.

 

“Oh?”  His mother is curious, pleased.

 

“Do tell.”  His father is cautious, wary.

 

“Well I haven’t actually gotten the chance to talk to them.  There was a group of us that all kind of found ours at the same time?  We’re working on a time and place to get together so we can figure out whose soulmate is who.”

 

“I’m sure she’ll be a nice girl.  Any soulmate of yours is bound to be.”  His mother smiles at him.  He returns it even though his stomach is whirling like he’s on a boat; there’s only one female that he knows of in the group and the odds of Yachi being his soulmate are low.  He’s not entirely sure how to go about correcting his mother though.  So he simply smiles and agrees that it will be interesting to meet his soulmate and get to know them.

 

“Just so long as you don’t interrupt each other’s studies.  You’re not at that university to play around.”

 

“Of course,” Tetsurou agrees with his father.

 

 

He overhears them talking later.  He’s always been able to hear them when they sit on the porch if his window is cracked just a bit.  Just enough to let the words through but still soften the edges of them a little.

 

“Nothing says he has to get involved with his soulmate you know.  Doesn’t mean his life’s not on track anymore.”  His father has always been so concerned with Tetsurou being on the right path.  His lips twitch towards a smile at the familiar words.

 

“I know.  But he’s young still.  And that sort of folly is an easy distraction.  Especially so far from home.”

 

Tetsurou wants to tell his parents he won’t be distracted by his soulmate.  He wants to reassure them that he’s okay.  That he can handle everything fine, soulmate or no.  

 

He wants to tell them so many things.

 

“As long as he doesn’t go off and make a fool out of himself chasing some girl and thinking he’s fallen in love with the first pretty smile he sees we’ll be fine.”

 

He wants to tell them, but he bites his tongue and curls into his blankets instead.

 

The next morning he smiles and helps his mother with breakfast, helps his father clean out some boxes tucked away in a random closet, and walks back to the station feeling more than a little lost and quite a long way from that feeling of home he had when he was young.

 

 

—

 

 

The hardest thing to figure out is where exactly to meet up with twenty different people needing to be involved.  Dorm rooms or apartments are more or less out, at least the apartments any of them had.  But parks and restaurants just feel too open.  It isn’t that they necessarily want to keep everything a secret but with the whole soulmate thing being such an unusual occurrence to begin with Asahi and Makoto had made the executive decision for them all that they should try to keep things kind of quiet for the time being.  At least until they all got together and figured out who was connected to who and what effects there were and where to go from there.

 

Asahi is thankful that Makoto is involved with the whole thing.  He had met the other man last year at a volunteer event and they had become fairly fast friends and Asahi had been relieved when Makoto had reached out to him as a kind of representative of his group of friends.  How Asahi had gotten stuck playing the adult of his own group is still a little fuzzy to him but he knows it involved telling Suga no and dealing with Ai’s pleading puppy dog eyes.

 

Finally he and Makoto decide to book a conference room at the library.  They all, more or less, have reason to be on campus anyway and it is fairly neutral ground so hopefully no one feels too out of place there.

 

 

Asahi is the first one there and he smiles as politely as his nerves will allow him to when the librarian unlocks the door for him and flips on the lights.  He had once upon a time hoped that as he got older he’d get less distrustful looks from people, seem like less of a delinquent and all that.  Nishinoya had proudly informed him that with his almost waist long hair he now looked like some sort of woodland royalty so he garnered a new set of stares even when, like today, it was pulled up into a very neat braid and bun combo thanks to Momo who was surprisingly good at braiding hair.  He only gets a couple minutes to try to settle his nerves before the door opens and someone strolls in.

 

“Hey,” the guy says.  He gives Asahi a lazy wave before dropping into a chair at the head of the table and propping his feet up on it.  “I’m Aomine.”

 

“Ah, I’m Azumane Asahi.  Nice to meet you.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”  Asahi glances towards the door when a flicker of movement catches his attention but no one is there.  Aomine yawns.  “Wake me when something exciting happens would ya?”

 

With that Aomine closes his eyes and, apparently, goes to sleep.  Thankfully Ai shows up a few minutes later so Asahi isn’t stuck alone with some stranger asleep at the table.  It doesn’t take long for most everyone else to filter in after that and before long the conference room is filled with the low murmuring of people getting to know each other.  A quick head count shows them only missing Kageyama and Yachi who were running late because of a traffic delay and would be here any minute so Asahi gets Daichi’s attention and nods for him to get started.

 

Daichi says something that Asahi can’t quite hear over the chatter of the room and then frowns.  He tries again and the look of frustration on his face makes Asahi stifle a laugh; it’s been a couple years since Daichi has had need of his ‘Captain Voice’ and it has apparently gotten a bit rusty.  Asahi glances over to the other former captains in the room for potential help getting everyone’s attention.  Kuroo meets his eyes for a fraction of a second and then pointedly looks anywhere but Asahi which he finds strange but puts it aside for another day.  Bokuto is contributing to at least a quarter of the buzzing noise with his laugh and grand gestures and he almost hits someone - Makoto’s boyfriend, he thinks and now that he sees him he’s pretty sure the guy must be related to Momo because they look too much alike to be a coincidence- in the face.  Akaashi meets his eye and just shakes his head, obviously not wanting to raise his voice at all.  Makoto is busy talking to one of his friends and, from the looks of it, trying to keep him from leaving.

 

Asahi turns towards Ai and makes a pleading gesture and Ai grins at him.

 

“Alright everyone listen up.”  Ai doesn’t yell but his voice pitches just right that everyone’s conversations taper off and they look around to see who spoke.  Daichi, Asahi notes, looks shocked when he spots Ai standing next to Asahi with his arms crossed and Makoto’s boyfriend bursts out laughing and, okay, yeah he is definitely related to Momo.

 

“Captain Nitori,” Makoto’s boyfriend says.  “One of my favorite things to witness.”  He pretends to wipe a tear away from his eye.  “So proud.”

 

“Thank you, Captain Mikoshiba,” Ai says automatically.  “Now.  Everyone listen up please.  We know there are a few of us who already know our soulmates but for the rest of us who don’t know, or can’t figure it out, we’re going to write down the words our voices used to say and go from there.  Any questions?”  When no one says anything he smiles and looks up to Asahi.  “Good.  Now grab a note card from Makoto or Asahi and write it down.”

 

 

That’s when a new round of chaos starts.

 

Someone slams a hardcover book shut and Aomine jerks up, nearly falling from his chair.

 

“Fucking hell, Tetsu.  What was that for you ass?”

 

“Excuse me?”  Kuroo says from the other side of the table.

 

“Aomine,” someone says patiently and Asahi blinks hard because he swears that this person wasn’t there a moment ago.  “Please don’t be so vulgar.”

 

A movement just beyond them has Asahi’s attention shifting to watch Makoto trying to keep his friend in the room.  His friend turns and gives him a stare and Makoto sighs.

 

“Solidarity, Haru.  That’s why you have to stay.  We’re all here for support even if you already know who your soulmate is.”

 

“Support,” Haru mutters and Makoto nods.  Haru then about faces and sits himself down on the lap of the person closest to him who looks torn between supporting Haru’s weight and just pushing him to the floor.

 

“Aw, Yamazaki’s on his best behavior today.  I’m proud.”

 

Yamazaki turns and gives Mikoshiba a glare with enough intensity that it makes Asahi fidget on the other side of the table.

 

“Go fuck yourself with a monkey wrench, Mikoshiba.  I have had enough of you today.”

 

A sharp gasp from the doorway draws all of their attentions.  Yachi’s eyes are so wide Asahi is worried they’ll fall out and Kageyama’s face is turning pinker by the second.  They turn to look at each other for a moment and then turn to stare at Suga in unison.

 

“Holy shit,” Suga hisses, “language please.”

 

“Yeah.  Don’t fucking swear in here it’s a library jeez.”  Aomine grins when some of them turn to him, only to wince a second later when he’s hit in the back of the head with the same hardcover book that woke him up.

 

“I warned you not to be so vulgar, Aomine.”

 

 

Before long this latest round of chaos settles and they’re all matched up with their soulmates.  He’s not sure which is going to end in a bigger disaster for him: being soulmates with Kuroo and barely being able to look at him thanks to the giant crush he used to have on Kuroo in high school or the fact that he’s still somehow the one in charge of this motley crew.

 

—

 

_ ballsforlife11: Stuck in bootyshorts again cause my bff had an accident and needs pants for her presentation today. _

 

Tobio stares at his reflection as his photo uploads.  At least they look good on him.  Even if bright orange isn’t really his color.  At least not on a pair of shorts that just barely cover his butt.

 

He wonders if he should be more concerned about being spotted wearing Hitoka’s shorts and then realizes that he literally just posted it online so a dozen people have probably already seen him.  Which leads to his next dilemma of should he wait out Hitoka’s hour long class here in the bathroom or dare to venture out and maybe find a chair in that alcove nearby.  He wants to try to brush up on his German and he’s not sure the bathroom is the best place to study.

 

_ sunshinecrow: I always used to think we had a weird friendship.  But you two win.  By a landslide. _

_ kinkuni: i would insult you but you actually don’t look horrible in them wtf -a _

_ kinkuni: same -y _

 

Tobio takes a deep breath and pushes open the bathroom door.  He wonders if this was how Hinata always felt in high school at volleyball games, forever nervous because he always ran into someone in the bathroom.  It was almost always someone strong from an opposing team and nine times out of ten he literally ran into them.  Then again Hinata was short and often focused on the game ahead of him instead of the hallway ahead of him.

 

“Hey Kageyama.”  He startles for a moment and it’s like he’s back to being a first year in high school, caught trying to sneak into the gym.  It’s just Tanaka but his grin doesn’t really help Tobio shake that feeling of being back in high school.  Or of being caught sneaking.  Not much has changed about Tanaka since then.  Other than being more composed in general and marginally less likely to rip off his shirt at a moment’s notice.

 

Tobio wonders if Tanaka rips off his shirt when he gets a good grade on a test or presentation.  The image of Tanaka yanking off his shirt and spinning it around because of full marks on a test makes him smile.

 

“Do I wanna know?”

 

Tobio shrugs and settles into a chair in the empty alcove.

 

“I’m going to study.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Tanaka takes the chair across from him.  Tobio wonders if Tanaka wants something or is simply killing time before class.  Not that it really matters to Tobio either way.  The only reason he’s here himself is because this bathroom was fairly close to Hitoka’s last class and she had called him in a panic because there was no way she could stand in front of her next class for her presentation in her bright orange shorts and they were the only thing other than her now ruined pants that she had to wear.

 

Tanaka can’t sit still.  It’s something that Tobio doesn’t remember from high school but he figures he had almost always seen Tanaka at practice or on the bus or something related to volleyball, never in class.  So maybe he was just always fidgety like this.  Hinata was.  Probably still is.  Tobio tries to read the German book on his lap but he can’t quite focus on it.  Tanaka isn’t exactly distracting, or at least not intentionally.  Tobio just doesn’t have the focus today to sit next to him and try to process German while he has dozens of thoughts rolling in his own mind.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“Why are any of us here?”  Tanaka shoots back with a grin.  It’s the grin that lets Tobio know Tanaka is making a joke.  He doesn’t think it’s at his expense though so he simply shrugs in response and it must be the right one because Tanaka laughs and rolls his eyes.  “I just decided to cut through this building between classes instead of taking the longer way around today.  And then I had time to kill so I figured I could just as easily sit here with you as sit by myself outside my next class.”

 

Tanaka doesn’t stop fidgeting completely but it’s like someone turned the intensity of it down and before long Tobio finds himself drawn back to his book.  He’s so focused on it now that he doesn’t notice Tanaka leaving until well after he’s gone and the only sign he had been there at all is a piece of paper with his messy handwriting on it thanking Tobio for the company that he spots on top of his bag when he finally looks up again.  Tobio doesn’t understand why Tanaka would thank him for that, he didn’t really do or say anything the entire time, but he shrugs and uses the piece of paper as a bookmark when Hitoka hurries up to him with flushed cheeks and a grin on her face.

 

Her presentation obviously went well.  Which meant they were going out for food which meant they needed to go home first.  Because as much as he didn’t really care about wandering around campus in these shorts no way was he walking downtown in them.

 

He waves away Hitoka’s attempt to talk him into changing before walking home.  It’s not like it was the first time he had walked across campus in her clothes after all and, judging by how little either of them enjoyed doing laundry, it probably wouldn’t be the last.

 

—

 

Ai can’t stop fidgeting.  He’s retied the ribbon on the bouquet of flowers in his hand three times since he left the shop.  He’s ran his hands through his hair - dyed light pink this week - a half a dozen times and any style it might have had earlier in the day is long gone.  He’s adjusted his collar and sleeves and everything else he can reach without looking weird at least a dozen times on the way over.

 

It’s ridiculous how nervous he is and it just gets worse when he knocks on the door of Kageyama’s apartment.  Yachi answers and gives him a quick once over before winking at him and calling Kageyama over.  She nods approvingly at the flowers in his hand before stepping out of the doorway.  Ai hears her say something softly to Kageyama and then she’s gone and Kageyama is standing in front of him and holy shit if he thought he was nervous before that was nothing compared to now.  He’s pretty sure he’d be less jittery had he just downed a dozen espressos mixed with Red Bull and sugar.

 

Ai is sure Kageyama’s outfit looks amazing on him but he can’t tear his eyes away from Kageyama’s face when he holds out the flowers to him.

 

“For me?  Really?”  The excited smile that blooms across Kageyama’s face nearly brings Ai to his knees holy hell he has it bad for Kageyama.  There were at least half a dozen crimes he could think of that he would willingly commit without hesitation for that smile.  He now understands the dopey look on Seijuurou’s face when he sees Tachibana all dressed up for a date.

 

If this was how Kageyama would look each time then Ai would happily bring him flowers every damn day.

 

“They’re for my date.  So, yeah, they’re for you.”  Ai blushes when Kageyama meets his eyes and, somehow, smiles even brighter.

 

“I’ll be right back.  I’m gonna put them in water.”

 

The jittery feeling in his veins doesn’t die off.  In fact it seems to double when Kageyama comes back empty handed with the ghost of a smile still twisting his lips.

 

They stop at a small store a few blocks from Kageyama’s apartment to buy a small bag of bird food to feed the ducks at the nearby park.  Kageyama debates between a couple different bags, reading the ingredients in each one and comparing them carefully.  Ai would have most likely just grabbed the first one he found and been on his way but he likes watching Kageyama.  Likes the care that he puts into even the simplest of tasks.  Daichi’s words of warning about being patient with Kageyama come to mind.  Ai can see where someone might get impatient or in a rush.  But Ai knows a little about Kageyama’s past and the way that his quick decisions and snap judgments caused more than enough pain to those around him so he understands Kageyama’s wariness about making hasty decisions now, even if they’re simple ones.  Daichi told him that Kageyama agreeing to go on a date as soon as Ai asked him had been the quickest major decision he had remembered seeing Kageyama make in a long time.

 

Kageyama finally picks a bag and heads up to pay and Ai can see his eyes darting nervously towards him, like he’s worried that Ai is getting bored or upset.  Like he’s making sure Ai is still here.

 

Ai joins Kageyama in line with a smile.  “Get the right one?”

 

“I’m not sure.”  Kageyama’s shoulders relax ever so slightly when Ai bumps his elbow into Kageyama’s arm.  “But I think so.”

 

Ai hooks their pinkies together as they head for the park and swings their hands ever so lightly.

 

“Did you know my teammates used to call me Duckling?”  Kageyama stares at him and shakes his head.  “Yeah.  I never did find out why and Sousuke still calls me that sometimes.  If I had to guess I think it was ‘cause of the way I used to follow Rin and Sousuke around my first couple years of high school.”

 

“That’s cute,” Kageyama murmurs.  Ai thinks he hears him say “just like you” but he can’t be sure.  The blush that suddenly stains Kageyama’s cheeks is a good indication though.

 

 

They finally reach the park and head straight for the pond.  Kageyama watches the ducks and Ai watches him.  It feels cheesy and cliche and like something straight out of a romance novel when the breeze picks up and sends a few leaves blowing past them because Kageyama turns to watch them, completely entranced, and does that tiny content smile of his and for a moment Ai is sure his heart just flat out stops beating.  He’s sure of it because it kicks into overdrive and starts slamming against his ribs like a cat trying to get under a closed door a moment later when a single leaf lands against Kageyama’s hair and Kageyama pouts and tries to brush it away.

 

Kageyama brushes the leaf away with the hand holding the bag of birdseed - because they still have their pinkies linked - and the bag slips out of his hand.

 

It smacks the ground with a dull thud and splits open.

 

Ai never knew that life threatening disasters could start with such an harmless sound.

 

It takes all of five seconds for the first curious duck to approach them.

 

 

Daichi’s head snaps up and he looks around the park cautiously.  He knows no one else can hear what’s happening in his head but he almost wishes they could because holy shit it is loud.  All he can make out is Ai’s panicked yelling and Tobio’s voice going “oh no not again” over and over and over.  Then he hears a ruckus even louder and he watches what looks like a swarm of ducks streak past him with what sounds like some very human screeching coming from within.  A moment later he registers that he just watched Ai and Tobio being chased by ducks through the park and he’s torn between laughter and the need to rush after them to help.  He settles for laughing as he shoves his stuff into his backpack and hurries after them.  He’s not worried about losing them.  All he has to do is follow the screams of terror.

 

—

 

Aomine drops onto the floor behind Makoto with a put upon sigh.  Makoto ignores his grumbles and turns his attention back to the essay he’s been trying to outline all day.  Or attempts to.  His attention is still a few hundred miles away,  kind of floating around how grouchy and touchy Seijuurou has been acting.  This whole soulmate thing hasn’t been easy for any of them and Makoto was lucky to only have one; Seijuurou has to deal with three.  Though Makoto figures Nitori at least shouldn’t be too hard for Seijuurou to handle since he’s known him for years now.  But the other two - Sawamura and Kageyama - are mysteries.  It probably doesn’t help that they have the fun soulmate effect of being able to hear each other’s thoughts, seemingly at random right now.  At least Makoto and Aomine can only communicate when one or both of them are asleep so right now it’s just kind of like sharing really vivid dreams with each other and then trying to ignore Aomine when he insists on trying to ‘help’ Makoto during a test.  Aomine does understand the material in Makoto’s classes but he’d just much rather pass them himself than use Aomine as some sort of strange, vulgar reference book.

 

Makoto shakes his head and tries, once again, to focus on his essay.  He needs to get this done.  The outline is due in a couple days.  He thinks he might have better luck herding cats under a sprinkler.

 

Aomine groans loudly, curling around Makoto’s back and reaching around to smack the book out of his hand.

 

“Stop stressing so much.”

 

“Aomine,” Makoto scolds, “I need to do my essay.”

 

“Fine,” Aomine says back, “but stop stressing about your asshole boyfriend and focus on your essay instead.”

 

Makoto takes a deep breath, counts to ten, and then fixes Aomine with the kind of look that usually silences his siblings in a heartbeat.  Aomine simply raises an eyebrow and props his elbow on the floor, chin in hand, and stares back.

 

“Seijuurou is not an asshole.”

 

“He’s certainly acting like one right now.”

 

“We’re all under a lot of stress.”  Makoto picks his book back up and tries to find the page he was on.  “Not all of us get to sleep away the day and worry about nothing after all.”

 

Aomine’s only response is to reach out and grab the book out of his hands and toss it onto the couch across the room.

 

“One,” Aomine says as he pulls himself around Makoto and flops across his now empty lap, “that was a low blow.  Two: I worry about the important things.  Three: someone needs to sell shit to the weirdos and the shy people who only come into the shop under the secure cover of darkness.”  After Makoto gingerly sets his arms down on Aomine’s back - he’s still getting used to just how tactile Aomine can be when he’s in the mood, which is surprisingly often - Aomine lets out another sigh, this one soft and almost reluctant.  “Four: I worry about you.”

 

Makoto is still learning a lot of things about Aomine but he knows that Aomine isn’t one for sappy heartfelt declarations of friendship and the like.  Nor is he one to let people in that easily and his soft words spoken to the floor warm Makoto’s heart.

 

“Are you implying I’m important to you?”

 

“Well you’re my fucking soulmate so I figure the universe thinks you must be important to me.  And your asshole boyfriend better realize that I won’t stand for my soulmate being treated as anything less than fucking awesome.”

 

Makoto scrubs his hands over his face and groans.  He was hoping Aomine would just drop it.

 

“It was just an argument.  We have them from time to time.  Despite what some of our friends might think we are not a perfect couple.”

 

Aomine stiffens.  “You were crying when you came back earlier.”

 

“I was tired and frustrated.  I still am to a degree.”

 

“No.”  

 

Aomine sits up, takes a deep breath, and then stands.

 

Makoto stares up at him.  “No?”

 

“No,” Aomine repeats.

 

Makoto already kind of misses the warmth of Aomine curled around him like a giant lap cat and he falls onto his back with a whine that is really childish but exactly how he feels at the moment.

 

"It was nothing okay?"  Makoto smiles kindly and he doesn’t even have to look at Aomine to see that he’s buying exactly none of it.  “He’s just had a long week.  Just like the rest of us.”

 

Aomine stares down at him with a disapproving look.

 

“It was not ‘nothing’,” Aomine growls.  “He was being an asshole and taking it out on you - which you did not deserve in the slightest - and he needs to bring his ass over here and apologize or I will drag him here to do it if I don’t just rip his throat out with my teeth first.  No one gets to treat their partner like that no matter how shitty of a week they had and they especially don’t get to treat you like that.  Not while I’m here.”

 

Aomine stalks to the door and for a moment Makoto swears he sees a dark tail swishing angrily back and forth as Aomine pulls on his shoes and ties them.

 

He already knows the answer when he asks where Aomine is going but it still sends a jolt of warmth and comfort and belonging to hear Aomine snarl that he was going to talk some sense into Makoto’s asshole boyfriend.

 

 

Daiki doesn’t even entirely understand why he’s being so overprotective of Tachibana.  He’s barely known the guy for a month, like actually sat and talked to him and hung out with him for a month, and they’ve only had their soulmate connection for not quite two months, and yet here he is marching up to Mikoshiba’s apartment ready to drag him to hell and back for upsetting Tachibana to the point of frustrated tears.  The last person he was this defensive of was Kise and that had been as much about the satisfaction of shutting that particular fucking asshole up as it had been about keeping Kise safe.

 

He would like to think that there’s something in the soulmate connection making him all emotional but if he’s being honest with himself - and that’s something that Tetsu had stressed was a condition of their rekindled friendship: honesty on all parts from both of them - he wants to.  Sure he and Tachibana might never have become friends without this whole soulmate thing happening but Tachibana feels like a second - or third or fifth or final - chance to be friends with someone he chooses, more or less.  Because he and Tachibana had both made it clear that they don’t expect anything just because they’re soulmates, not even friendship.  It’s something he has to work for and he’s a little surprised to find that he wants to.  He wants this friendship with this guy that’s too fucking soft and kind to want to associate with Daiki but has these moments of sass and sarcasm that make him a perfect match for Daiki’s own attitude.

 

Fuck his entire life with a cactus.  Daiki wants to cherish this friendship.  And he’ll start by tearing Mikoshiba’s throat out with his own fucking teeth if he has to.

 

 

One of Mikoshiba’s soulmates - the swimmer with his hair dyed an almost sky blue color this week that matches his eyes and the freckled face, Daiki sucks at remembering names - answers Mikoshiba’s door.  He takes one long look at Daiki, shakes his head, and gestures for Daiki to come in.

 

“Sei,” he calls out, “Tachibana’s soulmate is here and looks mad at you.  I have a date with Kageyama.  Good luck.”

 

The door closes as Mikoshiba calls out something unintelligible and Daiki is left standing in the entryway alone, listening to the sounds of Mikoshiba’s apartment.


	3. shit's hitting the fan

It starts when someone connects the dots between the weird post on  _ Crows Remember _ and the fact that they remember seeing Tanaka and Yachi both in the courtyard that day.  While that in itself isn’t all that strange the fact the now they’ve been spotted sharing a table in the library and meeting up for lunch when they never used to is unusual.  But they were former classmates at one point so maybe it’s just a reconnection of sorts.  That can be shrugged off.  

 

Except it’s not the only sudden reconnection or new friendship being formed.  

 

Because Mikoshiba and Sawamura never crossed paths yet here they are at lunch together.  But Mikoshiba has never been to campus before without either his little brother or Tachibana by his side.  He doesn’t even go to this university.  Then there’s Kuroko sitting in the library with Akaashi and, sure, Akaashi might not realize Kuroko is there - it wouldn’t be the first time someone has looked up and seen they suddenly have a table partner in the form of a pale ghostly teen - but Akaashi actually talks to Kuroko.  He knows Kuroko is there.  Kuroko even talks back to him most of the time!

 

What’s with Izuki and Takao and Sugawara, someone whispers one day.  Didn’t even know they knew each other let alone knew each other well enough to be meeting in the library together most mornings when none of them have classes and bringing each other coffee.

 

It’s so weird, someone whispers back.  Nanase and Aone never talked much, to anyone including each other, but now they’re always waiting for each other and Nanase digs out his sketchbook when Aone is working in the computer lab.  They’re so quiet.  It’s like they were made for each other.  But have you seen their friends?  Someone else mutters.  Yamazaki and Futakuchi?  They’re practically the perfect salty soulmates.  Always criticizing shit and making snippy little comments to each other.

 

Soulmates?  Curious gazes meet, speculations fly.

 

Is that really it?

 

 

 

Asahi can’t remember ever being this nervous.  Not before nationals.  Not while standing in front of the principal in high school.  Not even while staring at the gym doors debating about whether or not he could ever be a crow again after what he did.

 

Never.

 

He stares at the door of the conference room in the Administration Office and feels his stomach churn in a way he didn’t even know it could.  He’s not even sure why he’s been called here.  He can’t think of anything that he’s done that would draw the kind of attention that a meeting in a conference room in the Admin Office would warrant.  Even when  _ Crows Remember _ first started getting popular the only meeting he had was with the lady in charge of social media stuff for the school and it was simply a quiet little “make sure you don’t say anything bad about the school” and he was in and out in under twenty minutes.  He’s been waiting outside the conference room for thirty minutes already.

 

The door swings open and he tenses in anticipation.

 

He’s not expecting to see someone he knows leaving the room.

 

Izuki strolls out and pauses when he sees Asahi waiting in a chair across from the door.

 

“I think things are about to get very interesting for all of us,” he says as the door shuts softly behind him.  “I’m gonna call Suga as soon as I’m clear of here.”

 

Then the door opens again and someone inside calls for Asahi to come in.

 

“Hey,” Izuki says as Asahi wrings his hands and crosses the hall.  “Remember, no matter what they say or try to make you think, there’s nothing wrong with any of us and it’s none of their business.”

 

Asahi has no idea what Izuki means until ten minutes into his meeting when one of the five people sitting across the table from him slides over a printed copy of a screenshot of the school’s message board and he sees the topic of discussion clear as day: **SOULMATES AT B UNIVERSITY????**  There are over three thousand replies as of that morning and Asahi kind of wants to pass out.

 

“Now, Azumane,” one of the ladies across from him is saying.  “You know that here at B University we don’t want to promote anything that might paint us in an unsavory light.  We have a reputation to uphold.”

 

His brain crashes.  Unsavory?  Is that what they think of soulmates?  Is that what they think of him and his friends?  As unsavory people?  Is this what Izuki meant?

 

He nods along where he thinks he’s supposed to, he agrees that they should all do their best to keep this quiet and not draw any undue attention to themselves.  Then they’re all smiling at him and dismissing him and he thinks that they look like they just won some grand prize and all he can do is wonder how they can look so smug when they just spent the last half an hour discussing how to keep the whole “soulmate situation under wraps” like it was some disease.  He’s surprised they didn’t suggest quarantining them honestly.  Make it easier to study them all in one place and not risk them spreading anything to anyone.  They already know each of their names somehow so it’s not like they couldn’t do it if they wanted to.

 

There’s a bitter feeling in his chest, a nasty rope all tangled inside him, and every person he sees as he trudges home seems to be judging him, even if they don’t even look at him, there’s judgment in their lack of eye contact.  They all know what he is, what he has now, and they all disapprove.

 

He collapses onto the couch as soon as he gets home and barely even registers Ai coming in a few minutes later and taking up the other end of the couch as he messages someone on his phone.  He doesn’t notice the way Ai keeps stealing glances at him.  He barely even registers someone knocking at the door.  Then Daichi is dropping down next to him and nudging him in the side and Asahi flops over Daichi’s lap.  It’s a very rare show of affection that he initiates but he needs it.  He needs the assurance that there is nothing wrong with any of them and after only a moment of surprised hesitation Daichi is running a hand along his back and then Asahi stops thinking for awhile.  He listens to the soothing rise and fall of Daichi’s voice as he talks with Ai and then Momo and then there are more voices that Asahi doesn’t really listen to until he feels a warm hand on his cheek and he opens his eyes to see Suga looking at him.

 

“Hey there.”  Asahi smiles at Suga’s voice because it’s Suga and Suga smiles back at him.  “Izuki already told us about most of his meeting.”

 

“Oh,” Asahi says quietly, smile falling as that feeling of unease rushes back up at him.

 

“Hey.  No,” Suga scolds gently.  “Don’t leave us, Asahi.  You don’t have to talk about your meeting right now.  We just want you here while we talk about what to do in general.”

 

Asahi blinks a few times and finally looks past Suga and, honestly, he never would have imagined you could fit over twenty people in his apartment, it already seemed crowded most days with just Ai, Momo, and himself.  Leave it to Suga to prove him wrong, he thinks with a wry smile as he sees everyone in their soulmate group squeezed somewhere in the small living room.

 

“Do I have to sit up?”

 

Daichi’s laugh vibrates through him and Suga smiles at him and for a moment he feels like they’re fifteen and nothing can touch them.

 

“No.  You can stay right where you are.  At least until my legs fall asleep.”  Daichi lightly drums against his back and Asahi hums at the familiar action.  He knows that Daichi would let him stay even after his legs fell asleep.  Just like Daichi knows Asahi will get up well before then.

 

So he takes a deep breath and smiles again at Suga and Suga must see what he wants to in it this time because he nods and then settles on the floor with his back against the couch, shoulder pressing against Daichi’s knee.  It makes Asahi feel better that Suga needs, or at least wants, the solid support of their friendship for this too.

 

Then they talk.  Make plans.  Figure out what to say when the questions start coming.  How much they’re actually comfortable revealing and how much they want to reveal.  They try to figure out what kind of shit people might try to dig up about them.

 

Mostly they all just take comfort in the fact that they’re not alone.

 

—

 

Tetsuya stares at his reflection with a frown.  There are purple streaks in his hair that he definitely did not place there himself and when he reaches up to touch them he notes a purpling bruise on the back of his hand.  The bathroom door opens and he sighs to himself at the rush of noise that pushes inside.  You’d think a library would be quieter.  More serene.  But all the same gossip that he encounters everywhere else is right here too, just muffled a little here and there and hidden between stifled laughter and dangerous murmurs.

 

Logically he knows that he and Akaashi got off rather lightly in terms of the whole soulmate thing.  Neither of them were flashy people.  Neither of them liked much attention.  Their soulmate ability was fairly unobtrusive when one of them wasn’t feeling vindictive and dying their hair odd colors or running into desks or getting paper cuts from essays.  There’s no wild influx of emotions or voices barging in on their thoughts or dreams.  Just a phantom sense of a pulse thrumming under his own and the fact that he never knew just what might be different about himself every time he looked in the mirror.  He loathes to think of the day Akaashi decides  he wants a tattoo.  They’ll definitely have to discuss that.

 

Tetsuya returns to the table where Aomine and Tachibana are studying and slips into the seat next to Aomine.  Surprisingly enough a few minutes later Izuki drops into the seat next to him with a groan.

 

“I swear it’s bad enough that people just keep talking about it all.  But I feel like I miss half my classes because they don’t stop talking about it and feel like I need to skip the other half of them just to avoid causing some sort of disturbance.”  Izuki drapes himself across the table and smacks his face into his arms.  “This is exhausting.”

 

“Unfortunately there’s no way to really stop it,” Tachibana says softly.  He frowns down at his books.

 

“You’d think the teachers would at least try,” Aomine drawls.  “At this rate it’s more like they want you all to cause a disruption so they have a reason to boot the lot of you.”

 

Tetsuya’s eyes narrow.  He hadn’t thought of that.  The way Azumane and Izuki had talked about their meeting with the Administration Office would seem to support that idea.  They had put a lot of stress on their group staying in line and keeping things respectable, whatever they meant by that.

 

“So, what?”  Izuki’s saying.  “We’re just supposed to roll over and let them all stare at us and whisper about us and derail over half our classes?”

 

“I dunno.  It’s a shit situation no matter how you look at it.  I’m glad I’m not actually taking classes anymore.”  Aomine yawns and drapes across the table as well.  Between the two of them he and Izuki have the table almost completely covered by their bodies.  Tachibana huffs and shares a fond look with Tetsuya.

 

“I’m just not sure-” he breaks off when he feels someone staring at them.  He looks around but can’t find the source.  Everyone seems to be pointedly  _ not _ looking at them.  Like they had all come to the same conclusion to whip their heads away and stare awkwardly at other things the moment he turned his head.  It’s an unnerving feeling.

 

“Not sure what?”  Izuki breaks into his thoughts and Tetsuya shakes his head.

 

“Sorry.  I am not sure why it matters so much to everyone else.  Yes I understand that soulmates are rare but we are still just us.  Just boring university students trying to get by.”

 

“Nothing about me is boring,” Aomine mutters around a yawn.  “I am the very definition of entertainment.”

 

“I just do not understand why it matters whom among us is dating whom or who is or is not sleeping with someone or what their sexuality has to do with anything.”

 

“What I don’t understand is why people think we’re doing this for attention,” Tachibana says.  “Aomine, sure.  But the rest of us?”  Aomine scoffs and gives Tachibana an exaggerated hurt look and Tachibana pats his shoulder consolingly.  “None of us want attention.  At least not anything like this.”

 

Tetsuya nods.  He gets that feeling about most of their group as well.  While the occasional spot of attention from the right people is always nice most of them would much rather just be left alone to go about their lives.

 

“I just wish that they would come out and say whatever it is they feel they need to whisper about us and stop skulking around in the shadows and whatnot.  This feeling of being constantly watched is getting irritating.”  The others nod and murmur in agreement before Izuki and Aomine finally sit up enough that Tachibana can get back to his studying.

 

—

 

“Have you heard about that Yachi girl?”

 

Tobio stills, hand hovering over the button for the drink he wants from the vending machine, and cocks his head towards the two guys next to him.  One is a guy in skinny jeans he vaguely recognizes from a business presentation he had gone to to support Hitoka.  The other one he knows from the gym.

 

“Yachi? That tiny nervous girl in our business class?”

 

“Yeah.  The little blonde one.”

 

“What about her?”

 

Tobio presses the button and slowly yanks the milk box from the machine.  Whatever these two have to say about his best friend doesn’t seem like its any good and he’s determined to hear it for himself.  This whole soulmate thing has been a pain for everyone and the rumors are just finally starting to die down a little.  Not that he really cared all that much about anything that was said about him but there had been some pretty shitty things said about Asahi and Daichi and some of the others he knew personally and that was frustrating.

 

“Well apparently she has two soulmates and like a dozen boyfriends or something.”  The guy in the skinny jeans laughs knowingly and elbows gym guy.  “You know what that means.  A girl like that’s gotta be a freak in bed.  A real sl-”

 

“No.”  Tobio interrupts loudly.

 

“Excuse me?”  Skinny Jeans asks.

 

“No,” Tobio repeats.

 

Gym Guy nudges his companion.  “I know who he is dude.  Let’s go.”

 

Skinny Jeans ignores him and levels Tobio with a condescending stare that might have impressed Tobio if he hadn’t spent three years playing with Tsukishima.

 

“No.  I wanna know what he thinks he’s butting in for.”

 

“I know Hitoka and she-”

 

“Oh,” Skinny Jeans leers at him, “so you know she’s a good fuck right?”

 

Tobio doesn’t actively participate in his decision to punch the guy in the face.  But one moment he’s practically crushing his milk box and the next the asshole in the skinny jeans is clutching at his face and blood is seeping out from between his fingers.  His knuckles are throbbing a little and he knows that he should probably be feeling a little guilty for resorting to violence so quickly but mostly he’s just glad that he had paid attention the day that Kinoshita used the team to practice his self-defense presentation.  Tobio would much rather have sore knuckles and some bruises than a broken hand because of a bad punch.

 

“What the fuck,” Skinny Jeans is cursing at him.  Tobio ignores him and bends to pick up his milk box from where he had dropped it.  He should probably have someone check out his hand just in case.  Suga lives too far away now and would just lecture him.  “What the fuck?”

 

Daichi will find out before too long anyway since Tobio still isn’t the best at shielding his thoughts from the others, which means Mikoshiba and Ai will know about it soon too.  He is not looking forward to Ai’s worried scolding.  It’s kind of like Suga’s only Tobio is dating Ai so it makes him actually feel guilty.  But he also knows Ai will be upset if he doesn’t hear it from Tobio in person and he figures by the time he gets to the apartment Asahi should be home as well.  Asahi’s good at patching up small stuff like this after all.

 

He leaves Skinny Jeans cursing at him and Gym Guy trying to calm him down without even looking at them.

 

 

 

“So let me get this straight.”  Ai is pacing back and forth in the kitchen while Tobio sits on the counter and Asahi gently prods at his hand and cleans the scrapes on his knuckles.  “Some guy was insulting Yachi and you just… punched him.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”  Ai stops and spins around to face them.  “Why did you do that Tobio?”

Tobio flushes at the use of his given name -it’s still new to hear it from Ai’s mouth - and shrugs.  “I didn’t really debate with myself over it.  It just kind of happened.”

 

Asahi finishes inspecting Tobio’s hand and looks between Tobio and Ai with a look on his face that Tobio can’t quite decipher.  Which isn’t all that surprising.  Non-verbal cues and reading people’s faces have never really been a strong suit of his outside of volleyball.

 

“I think we might be missing some key points.”  Asahi’s voice is careful.  He sounds grown up and in control and Tobio is kind of proud that the Glass Hearted Ace he remembers from high school is so calm and collected.  Especially since Ai looks ready to throw his hands in the air and stomp out of the kitchen in irritation.  “Or,” he adds, looking at Tobio like he’s suddenly remembering something important, “maybe we’re just asking it the wrong way.  Kageyama?”

 

Tobio blinks a couple times at the gentle, patient tone.  Asahi’s been taking classes or something.  Or maybe he’s just spent a lot of time with Kiyoko and Suga this last summer.

 

“Yes?”

 

“What did the guy say about Yachi that made you so upset?”

 

“He was talking about her having two soulmates and said she had a dozen boyfriends or something dumb like that - which she doesn’t.  She has two.  And she’s only dated two other people before them and why is her having two soulmates a big deal anyway?  I have three.  I mean-”

 

“Kageyama,” Asahi redirects his attention patiently.

 

“Oh right.”  Tobio takes a shaky breath.  His skin is feeling too tight for him and he feels all jittery and kind of wants to punch something again when he thinks about what the guy said about Hitoka.  His sweet, kind, adorable best friend who had never done a single thing to the guy.  “He said something about her boyfriends and then said that she was obviously a freak in bed because of that and started to call her a slut and that’s when I punched him.  Or at least I assume that’s what he was calling her.  I kind of punched him before he finished the word.”

 

Asahi looks like he just received one of Oikawa’s pinpoint serves with his chest - all winded and pale and eyes flashing with a determination to return the favor - and Ai sucks in a sharp breath.

 

“He didn’t,” Asahi breathes out.

 

Tobio nods.

 

_ I’m gonna do more than break his nose. _  Ai’s voice filters in and it’s still a little weird for Tobio to hear it in his head when Ai is just a few steps away, posture stiff and face set in a scowl.   _ I don’t even know her that well and I’m going to murder the guy for saying that. _

 

 

It’s not exactly a bucket of fun explaining to Daichi and Mikoshiba why Ai wants to murder someone.

 

Or explaining to Hitoka - and Tanaka and Bokuto since they were visiting her - why his hand is scraped and bruised when he finally makes it home that night.

 

He’s not entirely surprised to wake up the next morning with a group text to what looks like all the volleyball players in their little soulmate group about meeting up outside a specific classroom that afternoon.  Tobio debates not going but finally his curiosity over what Tanaka has planned - and the fact he wants to be able to tell Hitoka a version largely not filled with Tanaka’s exaggerations over how cool he is - has him lingering around campus after his last morning class. 

 

When he opens the door to the building he immediately spots the group and he supposes that the other students giving them kind of a wide berth probably have reason to if they don’t know the guys.  They do make a fairly intimidating picture.  This really isn’t going to help the rumors any, Tobio thinks, then Tanaka spots him and waves him over.

 

“Kageyama!”  Tanaka throws his arm around Tobio’s shoulders when he reaches them.  “The most important person for our little show.”

 

Asahi smiles at him nervously and Tobio nearly stumbles when Bokuto slaps him on the back.  Akaashi kind of looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but Tobio thinks Akaashi looks that way a lot when he’s not talking to his soulmate or studying.  Aone and Futakuchi appear near the end of the hallway and then there’s a rush of noise as Kuroo and Suga usher a grumbling Daichi through the door Tobio had come through.

 

“Great,” Tanaka says as he claps his hands together once to get their attention, “we’re all here.  Operation: Scare the Piss Out of the Skinny Jeans Wearing Asshole can commence.”

 

The plan is to stand there and stare the guy down when he comes out of his class with Tobio front and center to draw the guy’s attention as soon as he comes out.  Tobio doesn’t want to know how Tanaka knows what class he’s in.  It’s probably safer.  He isn’t sure why everyone here is going along with it either, especially Aone and Futakuchi and why Suga came all the way back just for this.  But Tobio’s pretty sure if he didn’t know everyone here and he stepped out of his classroom to see almost a dozen athletic - and some incredibly tall and muscular - guys staring him down like he was the scum of the earth he’d probably freak out a bit.

 

Tobio almost wishes he had a camera just for the sheer fact that he’s never seen anyone’s eyes widen so much in real life and he thinks Skinny Jeans actually stops breathing for a few seconds before he turns sharply and almost runs to the nearest exit.  Tanaka bursts out laughing as soon as the door swings shut and invites everyone out for a snack since they’re all here anyway and he leads them towards the opposite door.  Tobio hangs back and heads for the door that Skinny Jeans escaped through.  He’s not sure why he’s doing it but when he glances over his shoulder Daichi is following him.  Seems like they’re both being drawn the same direction.

 

He realizes it’s probably a soulmate thing when he opens the door and spots Skinny Jeans frozen in the middle of the sidewalk with none other than Ai standing in front of him, arms crossed and a look on his face that Tobio has come to recognize as his Samezuka Swim Captain look.  The look is doing a funny thing to Ai’s face that is making him look completely disappointed in Skinny Jeans and like Skinny Jeans is a piece of wet toilet paper stuck to Ai’s shoe that he would like nothing more than to scrape off with a block of cement at the same time.  It’s a pretty impressive combination.

 

What’s even more impressive is that Mikoshiba comes strolling up as Ai is in the middle of saying something to Skinny Jeans, hooks his arm around Ai’s waist, and hauls him away like he weighs nothing without even pausing.  Skinny Jeans turns and watches Mikoshiba stroll up to where Daichi and Tobio are standing and then he takes off in the opposite direction, jogging as fast as his skinny jean clad legs will let him go.

 

"Put me down,” Ai is saying when Mikoshiba stops next to them, “I'm going to chase him down and fight him."

 

"No."

 

"Why not?"

 

"We discussed this.  No rage monsters."

 

"You are no fun sometimes."

 

Tobio thinks his boyfriend looks adorable being carried around like that.  Daichi makes a grossed out face beside him and Ai turns bright red under his sky blue bangs.

 

They really need figure out how to control their little mind talking thing.  Soon.


	4. murders aren't just for crows

“Why would you ask me something like that?”

 

Kuroo shrugs and looks to Kuroko for support.  Kuroko stares back at him and continues to sip his shake; Kuroo is on his own.

 

“I dunno.  You just give off the impression that you want to murder everyone you look at.”

 

“You give off the impression that you’re a smarmy asshole but I don’t say it to your face.”  Keiji sniffles at him.  “That’s just rude.”

 

“You know it freaks me out a little that I honestly can’t tell if you’re fucking around with me or being serious.”  Keiji’s slow smile really doesn’t clarify anything and Kuroo shudders a little.  “I think it might be time for me to go now.”

 

“I think that might be a wise choice,” Kuroko says around his straw.

 

“Whatever,” Kuroo finally says with a laugh.  “I’m going.  I’ll see you guys later.”

 

Kuroko and Keiji fall back into their companionable silence, Kuroko drinking his shake and Keiji reading his book.

 

“Do I really give off the impression I want to murder everyone I look at?”  Keiji asks without looking up from his book when Kuroko sucks into air at the bottom of his almost empty shake.

 

Kuroko frowns down at his cup and then shrugs.

 

“I do not think you want to murder me.  Most of the time,” he adds before standing to toss his empty cup in the nearby garbage can.

 

“That’s almost comforting.  Thank you.”

 

“And even when I do think you wish to murder me, honestly, I am not that frightened by it.  Unlike Kuroo.”

 

Keiji lets out a disgusted noise and snaps his book shut.  “Kuroo is an asshole who needs to grow up and stop hiding behind his excuses of ‘you just don’t understand my family’ for every bad thing that happens to him that he can’t deal with.”

 

Kuroko glances back over his shoulder at Keiji, concern written clear even on his normally blank face, and Keiji groans.

 

“That is particularly vicious, even for you Akaashi.  Especially towards a friend.  Would you like to talk about it?”

 

Keiji stares down at the cover of his book and takes deep breaths that strain and make his chest ache.  A real pain to cover the phantom pain that’s been clawing at that same spot for weeks and months now.

 

“Not here and not right now,” he finally admits.

 

Kuroko nods.  “Alright.”

 

They finish their afternoon in companionable silence, both experts at avoiding the giant ball of doubt and worry hanging over their heads.  Keiji knows that Kuroko won’t let him out of it now that he’s had his outburst and said he would talk later.  He knows it and he also knows that if their situations were reversed he would be the same way.  Score one for the universe for giving him a soulmate who understands his need for space and time to put his own thoughts in order.  No matter how quickly he may be able to analyze a situation happening outside himself and to others and land on a solution he needed more time when it came to himself.

 

 

Kuroko gives him two full days and a handful of hours before he appears beside Keiji in the library and nearly gives him a heart attack when Keiji turns from grabbing a book he wants to read for class and Kuroko is standing a step away with those wide blue eyes staring at him.

 

Keiji presses his hand to his mouth as he sucks in a breath.

 

“You would think the purple stripes in your hair would make you easier to spot.”

 

Kuroko frowns up at his bangs and then gives Keiji a reproachful look.

 

“It was rather rude of you to dye your hair that color.  It does not even show up in your hair most of the time.”

 

“That was the point,” Keiji says over his shoulder as he gathers his stuff from the table he’s been working at and heads to the front to check out his book.  “Yours or mine?”

 

Kuroko eyes Keiji for a moment and then glances up at the clouds.

 

The walk back to Kuroko’s dorm room is quiet.  Most of their time together is quiet.  Keiji has come to appreciate it, cherish it almost, after the bustle and noise of high school.  In fact, he’s come to appreciate and cherish a lot of things now that high school is in his past yet, true to form, that past seems to creep in on him without notice and settle in his cracks, just waiting to boil over and lash out.

 

He makes himself at home on Kuroko’s bed as soon as he slips out of his shoes.  He tugs Kuroko’s blankets until he can wrap them around himself and huddle himself against the wall.  Kuroko follows after he puts his stuff away, only sighing a little when he sees Keiji’s attempts to become a burrito of sorts, and settles against the wall next to him.

 

Kuroko doesn’t fiddle with the blankets or pillows.  Doesn’t pull out his phone to pass time.  Doesn’t even pick up one of his books.  He simply sits and waits.  Keiji had always thought himself a patient person - one had to be fairly patient on the volleyball team with Bokuto as captain after all - but as he sits there and stares at the far wall lost in his own thoughts and Kuroko waits next to him he thinks that Kuroko could wait him out without much effort.  And he would do it just for the sheer pleasure of having one up on Keiji.  Kuroko Tetsuya may be a fairly kind, sincere person but he was also a little shit who was not afraid of collecting favors and having leverage for future use and he enjoyed it to an extent.  They really were a good soulmate match.

 

Plus, Keiji grudgingly admits, he wants to get it out.  This particular piece of his past has been lodged in his throat since he had bumped into Kuroo one morning not long after starting at this university and they had spent the next couple hours catching up in one of the small courtyards.  It’s hard to talk to Kuroo with it there, a constant reminder that has him clearing his throat and swallowing uneasily when they’re around others.  Especially mutual friends like Bokuto who can so easily be influenced by the attitudes of the people around him at times.

 

The hardest part is that he isn’t sure if Kuroo even realizes it.  If he realizes how much it hurt Keiji, how much it still hurts him.

 

“So,” Keiji finally starts after almost ten minutes of inspecting the far wall of Kuroko’s dorm.

 

“So,” Kuroko prompts softly when Keiji doesn’t continue.

 

Might as well just plunge in, spill it all, and get it over with.  Who better to tell the whole story to than his soulmate, right?  It’s not as though Keiji has many close friends here that might understand his plight.

 

“So,” he starts again, “I realized I was gay in high school, like a lot of people start to.  Unlike a lot of them I accepted the fact.  I wasn’t sure what to do or who to talk to about it because, you know, being gay isn’t really something you talk about.  To anyone.  I turned to Bokuto as my friend and my teammate and my captain and just someone whose opinion I respected most of the time.  He was, and I quote, ‘one hundred and ten percent straight’ and therefore couldn’t help me.  But he encouraged me to talk to Kuroo about it.  He said he knew that Kuroo had talked to him a little about the same kind of things I was having troubles with and that Kuroo might be able to help me.”

 

He doesn’t look at Kuroko, doesn’t want to see the look of understanding dawning on his face because he knows that Kuroko has probably already figured out most of it.  Since they had all realized they were part of the same soulmate event all twenty of them had gotten to know each other a bit and Kuroko wasn’t one to forget details about people.  But Keiji needs to get this all out.  He needs to share this with someone.  

 

“Kuroo and I talked.  Or, well, I talked and he listened.  He listened for days until I ran out of worries and insecurities to text him about and chat with him about.  Then he talked and I listened.  He told me that it was okay.  I was okay.  There was nothing for me to be ashamed of.  He understood my fears and what I was saying.  I had perfectly valid concerns and worries.”  Keiji pauses for a few moments to take a deep breath.  Because what he’s about to tell Kuroko is the part that buries itself under his skin and wraps thorny fingers around his throat when he thinks about it or hears Kuroo talk about how hard it is with his family being the way it is.  “He encouraged me to come out to my family.”  Keiji tries not to hiss but the words sting.  He can feel his fingernails digging into his palms and isn’t sure if it’s happening now or if it’s just a sense memory from the day in his mind.  “I called and talked to him that morning.  He told me there was nothing wrong with me and I was brave and strong and that I could do it.  He’s the reason I told them and now my grandmother can barely stand to hug me and there are still times I catch my parents just staring at me like they’re trying to figure out where they went wrong and I’m going to this university because it was the best I could afford and handle with working to cover whatever my scholarships don’t.”

 

Kuroko doesn’t say anything.  Doesn’t move.  He waits for Keiji to finish.

 

“He told me to do it, encouraged me, cheered me on.  He’s the reason for so much that happened to me during my third year and he wasn’t even around after that.  I told my family and he suddenly had so much going on he could barely even return a text.  And then I get to university and find out- I hear him-,” Keiji lets out a disgusted growl.  “He talks about how hard it is and how we just wouldn’t understand what it’s like and how much he still depends on his family and I just… yeah I get it none of us can understand one hundred percent and it’s easier to give advice than it is to take it but fuck.  Kuroko.  It’s like he doesn’t even remember or care about anything other than himself and what he’s going through.”

 

Keiji finally looks over and meets Kuroko’s eyes.

 

“I went through hell my third year because I followed his advice and he has the balls to tell me I just ‘wouldn’t understand what it’s like’ and what he has to deal with.”  Keiji takes a shuddering breath and lets out a sharp laugh.  “You know, that’s not even what pisses me off the most.  What pisses me off the most is that he won’t fight for any of it.  A blind person could see how much he’s come to care about Azumane.  How much he loves him.  Be it platonic or romantic.  But he won’t  _ do _ anything.  The same person who used to come up with and go along with the stupidest schemes with Bokuto refuses to even attempt to acknowledge how important his soulmate is to him because it’s ‘hard’ and ‘tricky’ to deal with and he ‘needs his family’s support.’”

 

Kuroko is silent for awhile, thinking over everything Keiji has said.

 

“Maybe,” he finally says softly, “Kuroo needs to be reminded that his friends support him as well.  And they do not wish him to change nor is their support conditional on him meeting certain expectations.  You said once his family seems to have a fairly, hmm, precise future they wish for him to strive for and they are providing for him so he can meet that future?”  Keiji nods.  “If he is truly unhappy then it is up to his friends to support him and help him figure out the future he wants for himself, not the one his family wants for him.”  Keiji grumbles a little.  He can understand Kuroko’s point but Kuroko makes it sound so simple and Keiji’s not sure it is.  “It is true we do not fully understand what it is like for him, no two people ever can fully understand each other’s lives after all.  Do you know if anyone has confronted him about it?”

 

“I don’t know for sure.  I don’t think so because he puts on a good act.  But we got to know each other fairly well in high school thanks to all those talks and I can tell he’s not happy.”

 

“Then maybe he needs a nudge from someone close to him.  Perhaps you or Bokuto or Azumane?  The worst that could happen at this point if you push him is an argument and I feel confident that one is coming even if you don’t push him.”

 

 

—

 

Tobio scrunches his nose a little when the guy interviewing them nods like he’s some kind of wise old man in a movie.

 

“It’s complicated.  I understand.”

 

Tanaka stops moving for a moment, a perfect statue, and then sets his book down on the library table softly.  Tobio catches a glimpse of someone at the table behind the interviewer doing the same thing, like they overheard and knew how ridiculous it sounds, but most of his attention is focused on Tanaka.  Because Tanaka was motion.  Action.  A wildfire whipping and crackling in a windstorm.  A calm Tanaka was something dangerous and deadly that warranted close attention and wary actions.

 

“Nothing about it is complicated,” Tanaka says.  His face is curled like he feels equally sorry for and repulsed by their interviewer.  “I’m part of a completely consensual polyamorous relationship.  My girlfriend has two boyfriends.  I’m bisexual.  He’s completely straight.  We all happen to be soulmates.”  Tanaka glances over to where Hitoka looks ready to pass out.  “Interview over,” he declares.  “For all of us.”  He grabs Hitoka’s hand and jerks his chin towards the door, wasting no time leaving and never looking back.

 

Tobio and Ai follow him out quickly and Tobio only pauses at the doorway because he hears someone else following them.  He spins around, ready to tell the interviewer to back off, and nearly trips over his own feet when he realizes that’s not who is behind them.

 

The guy holds up his hands when he sees Tobio’s angry glare in place and he smiles politely.  It’s a smile that has Tobio wanting to smile back because it reminds him of Suga’s smile.  So do his eyes, which are kind and gentle.

 

“It’s okay.  I promise I’m not a bad guy.”  A flash of silver around his finger catches in the sun as he wiggles his fingers a little before dropping them to his side.  “I’m Yoshikawa Kiyo.  Please, call me Kiyo.”

 

“You know that’s what the bad guys always say,” Tobio replies, eyes still on the unusual ring on Yoshikawa’s finger.  It’s silver but the vine and leaves look so real that Tobio expects to see them moving in the light breeze.  He kind of wants to touch it, just to see if they feel as realistic as they look.  His hand is leaving his side to try when Ai calls out to him and jogs back over.

 

“Uh this is Yoshikawa.  I think he wanted something,” Tobio explains when Ai gives them a strange look.

 

“Call me Kiyo.  I just wanted to talk to you guys a bit.  I, uh, well it’s kind of embarrassing but I know a lot about soulmates and have done some research on them and wondered if any of you were maybe interested in what I had found?  Some of it’s kind of cool.  I think anyway.”

 

_ Soulmate fanboy? _  Ai’s voice fills Tobio’s head and his eye flicker to the side before he huffs.

 

_ That’s not very polite. _

 

_ I’m not always a polite person. _

 

“So is that a no?”  Yoshikawa looks so saddened by the idea that Tobio instantly feels like he just stepped on a cat’s tail and broke a dog’s favorite toy at the same time.

 

“We have to go,” he says softly, “but Hitoka and I are usually here around three on Fridays.”

 

“So.  If I happen to be here Friday maybe we could share a table?”

 

“No promises.  But we’ll see.”

 

“Great.  Have a good day!”  Yoshikawa hurries off and Tobio gives Ai a confused look.  Ai simply shakes his head, shrugs, and laces their fingers together to pull Tobio back to wherever Tanaka and Hitoka were waiting.

 

 

“Do you trust him?  Did he seem weird?”  Hitoka is curled against his side in the armchair.  They discovered back in their third year of high school when they started learning new languages that it helped to sit together with a book in that language open in their laps and read it together.  They would sound out words and phrases to each other and laugh over each other’s horrible pronunciations and poke at different words they hadn’t figured out yet.

 

Tobio stares down at the German words dancing in front of his eyes and shrugs.

 

“He didn’t seem bad weird.  Maybe a little overenthusiastic about soulmates but not in a creepy way.  He was kind of like when Bokuto has something new he wants to share but isn’t sure that you’ll care enough to listen?”

 

“Oh,” Hitoka says softly.  “The big cat eyes.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I think Yamazaki is free Friday.  I can ask him to tag along if you want.  He should be game as long as we buy him a soda and a candy bar or something.”

 

—

 

Everything is going well.  Or as well as anything can go when one starts off a conversation with ‘we need to talk’ and then you go somewhere more private.

 

Keiji has been downright civil if you were to ask him.  He hasn’t lost his temper.  Hasn’t said any of the scathing things he’s wanted to.  He has remained composed and kept his voice even and polite.

 

He starts with asking how Kuroo and Azumane were doing with the whole soulmate thing, just to get a feel for where he needs to go.  Kuroo, naturally, dances around the topic, mentioning how they had been texting more lately and that Azumane id working on some stuff with Yachi for his site.

 

The same thing happens when he asks how Kuroo’s family is handling him having met his soulmate.  Kuroo makes some vague comment about his mother calling him that morning.

 

He holds it together for almost ten minutes while Kuroo talks himself in circles, never actually answering anything Keiji tries to ask him.  

 

Then he says it.  He just has to go and say those words.

 

“I mean, it’s just how things are.  It’s not really something I can bring up with my family that easily.  You wouldn’t understand.”

 

Keiji takes a deep breath, determined to remain calm.  Then Kuroo gives him a sad smile and shakes his head like it’s the end of the conversation and he is done.

 

“Oh I wouldn’t understand?”  He asks harshly.  “Which part am I not able to understand?  The part about being gay?  The part about having a family that doesn’t really approve of that particular lifestyle?  The part where said family will cut you off if you come out to them?  The part where you’re a scared teenager who thinks they shouldn’t be feeling he way they do about other boys?  Please.  Stop me when I reach a topic that I won’t understand.”  Kuroo opens his mouth to say something but Keiji cuts him off with a wicked smile.  “No.  I got it.  It’s the part where you give advice to someone who looks up to you and respects you and then after they take the advice you basically disappear from the fucking planet and never contact them again.”  Keiji laughs harshly.  “Yeah that’s the part I don’t understand.”

 

“Look.  It’s-”

 

“Kuroo I swear if you say ‘it’s hard’ or tell me I won’t understand one more time so help me I will punch you.”

 

“What do you want me to say then?  I don’t know what the hell you want me to say.”

 

“Then just listen.  You think I won’t understand.  Because when I went through all that.  When I came out to my family and spent the next year trying to figure out how the hell I was going to live with myself.  You know what?  You weren’t there.   _ You _ don’t understand what it was like.”  Keiji isn’t sure when they got so close, when he grabbed onto Kuroo’s collar and tugged him forward.  “When I was going through all of that stuff you’re so scared of?  You were nowhere to be found.  You encouraged me, you told me there was nothing to be ashamed of, that I was strong and could handle it and that you were on my side and then.  You know what you did?  You stopped talking to me.  All that support apparently had some kind of expiration date I didn’t know about.”

 

Kuroo is on edge, Keiji can see the tension in his body, can see him inching up to that edge of reason.  All it’ll take is a little nudge.

 

“Here’s some advice, Kuroo,” Keiji spits out through his clenched jaw.  “And unlike you back then, I’m not going to just vanish after giving it to you.  You’re miserable.  We can all see it.  I don’t know if it’s because of your family, your classes, you not being out, you having trouble with your soulmate.  I don’t know because you won’t tell me.  But I care.  We all care.  Our support isn’t conditional on you being a good little son and following the rules.  We just want you to be happy.  And right now all I can see is you hiding away.”  

Kuroo’s eyes narrow and he gives Keiji a glare that might have stopped someone else.  Someone with less pent up rage at Kuroo.  But Kuroo doesn’t say anything.  He actually looks ready to back down and that just pisses Keiji off even more than he was before.

 

“You were a coward when I needed you then and you’re a coward now.”

 

 

He’s surprised that Kuroo only punches him once, but it’s a damn good one.

 

 

“I told you to give him a nudge, Akaashi.”

 

Kuroko frowns up at him, the bruise on his cheek mirroring Keiji’s own, and Keiji shrugs.

 

“I did.  He nudged back.”

 

—

 

It was like someone had dunked him in syrup and hung him up in the sun; the sensation of something heavy dragging down his body and just dripping.  He wouldn’t be surprised to look behind himself and spot puddles of sticky dark goop trailing away from him.

 

He stares at the blinking cursor on the screen, waiting patiently at the start of his latest essay.  Each blink is in time with his heartbeat and, honestly, he always thought a breakdown would be… more.  Faster heartbeat, harsher breaths, tears streaming down his face, throat torn and raw with words falling over themselves to get out.  He was always a talker when he was nervous and when else would he be more nervous than when he was staring at his essay for class and realizing that he can’t do it.  He can’t do any of it.

 

He can’t keep going to classes he doesn’t want to take.

 

He can’t keep pretending that he wants to marry some nice girl.

 

He can’t keep acting like he wants some huge family.

 

He can’t keep being the child his parents always praised.

 

He can’t keep being this version of Kuroo Tetsurou.

 

He can’t.

 

 

It’s strange that someone so full of blood and thoughts and organs and all that can feel so empty.  Like even the very blood in his veins doesn’t quite have the right substance to exist properly.  Maybe that sticky heavy syrup feeling is just the world’s way of keeping him together.  Filling in all the cracks in his facade before he can even realize they’ve happened.  A shiny topcoat meant to seal in everything that’s wrong with him and show the rest of the world the glossy golden child that his parents had always been able to boast about.

 

Maybe he’s been cracked and shattered, broken for years now but never really able to realize it because each time a crack came too close to the surface the brush of his parents’ expectations and plans for the future slathered on another coat and now here he is; no touch ups available and his carefully applied porcelain veneer cracking apart and revealing what he really is: not much at all.

 

 

The blinking cursor mocks him with its steady heartbeat.

 

 

He thinks about his father’s proud face when he showed him the acceptance letter to university.

 

_ Tetsurou stares down at the envelope, fingering the school crest in the corner, sees himself in university colors cheering at games.  Cheering because volleyball was a “fleeting high school folly” that as a man growing into a responsible adult it was time for him to put it aside and use it for what it was always meant to be: some nice padding for a resume. _

 

 

He thinks about his mother looking at photos from his cousin’s wedding with a knowing smile on her face when she catches him watching.

 

_ Tetsurou smiles sweetly at the girl across from him and does his best not to fidget with his almost tamed hair.  His mother’s words about “just giving her a real chance” ring in his ears when the girl laughs at his horrible joke.  He tries.  Tries to feel a spark of something, even the tiniest flicker of remote interest in anything she says or does or the way the lights play with her hair.  Tries to keep her interest in him as well.  His mother’s distant look the next day means he failed. _

 

 

He thinks about the look his parents had shared when he excitedly brought up the idea of moving in with Bokuto - Bokuto to them, always Bokuto, and not Kouta because that’s far too familiar for just friends - since they were ending up at the same university and how it would be a great way to save money and really keep each other motivated for classes when homework and tests started to get overwhelming.

 

_ “The scholarships will cover everything, including rooming in the dorm and meals, so you don’t need a job.  Moving in with Bokuto would just be adding an unnecessary burden in terms of needing to get a job and worrying about bills.  You’re going there to study and graduate and get a good job so you won’t have to scrape by all the time.  Not to mention we all know how you and that boy distract each other all the time.  I mean, would there really be any studying getting done properly?”  Tetsurou laughs along with his dad’s joke, like he knows he’s supposed to do, and wonders why, when he texts Kouta, his second best friend in the world, later about the conversation, he feels so tired. _

 

 

He thinks about all of it - the carefully planned extracurriculars, the classes, the high test scores, his parents’ smiles, the unopened university letters tucked into his laptop bag because they weren’t for here, the shelf on his parents’ wall that held his science fair achievement plaques - with his hands resting on his keyboard and his eyes glazed over staring at the still blinking cursor.

 

The steady blink, blink, blinking sets his skin crawling the longer he stares at it without moving.  Staring at the blank screen of his essay feels like standing on the shore of an ocean and the blinking cursor is the tide creeping in to sweep his feet out from under him and carry him somewhere he can’t be rescued from.

 

“Oh,” he says in realization and his eyes drift from his screen to his phone.

 

 

He’s got scholarships paying for his way through a decent school and he’s taking classes that aren’t too difficult and promise to land him a good place in the working world when he’s graduated.  He has a soulmate who is sweeter than milk chocolate and more gentle with him than a mother cat picking up her kittens.  He has friends that he’d do anything for that are just a few minutes away.  And he is mind numbingly terrified.

 

Akaashi’s words about his friends wanting him to be happy and being ready to support him float through his mind.  Akaashi’s voice calling him a coward echoes in his bones.  Maybe he was.  Maybe he’s always been that way.  Maybe it’s time to ask for help and put that unconditional support Akaashi talked about to the test.

 

Tetsurou picks up his phone and sends a text to the bravest person he knows.  Less than a minute later his phone is vibrating with an incoming call and he accepts it without hesitation.

 

“Kuroo,” Yachi says gently.  “What’s going on?”

 

“Pretty sure my brain is trying to acknowledge the fact that almost nothing I am doing with my life right now is actually anything remotely close to something I  _ want _ to be doing and my self-preservation instincts are kicking and screaming and trying to drag it in the other direction.  And the cursor in my essay’s word document is mocking me.”

 

“Is this like when - Tobio, sweetheart, don’t eat that, Tanaka left it here a week ago - sorry, Kuroo.  Is this like when Bokuto didn’t want to do his presentation for his Business Management class and the empty poster was mocking him?”

 

“This is my entire life mocking me I think.  Everything feels all goopy and syrupy and I don’t want to be  _ this _ Tetsurou anymore.  Everything feels off.  Like a really well made tv show set where it seems so real but everything is conveniently facing the camera and there are no hallways to be found just doors to other rooms.”

 

Yachi hums softly and Tetsurou can hear her shuffling things around on her end of the call.  “Do you know what you want?”

 

“To be real.”  Tetsurou sighs and drops his head back so he can stare at the ceiling.  “To be whoever I actually am.”

 

“Okay, Pinocchio,” Yachi says after a few minutes of them simply listening to each other breathing.  Tetsurou smiles at the fondness in her voice, a fondness he never expected to be shown by someone only a few months after meeting them officially - and the steely promise in her next words.  “We’ll get you some scissors to cut those strings.”

 

 

Yachi is telling him about a girl in one of her classes that tried to sneak a kitten into their lecture and Tetsurou leaves the cursor blinking on his screen.  He shuts his laptop and flops onto his bed with a smile.  His cracks are finally starting to show but it was okay, his friends are cracked and chipped in different spots, in different ways.

 

He digs a pen out from his bag and listens to Yachi describing a new set of markers she bought last week as he contemplates the lines on his palm.

 

_ Good night, Azumane.  Sweet dreams.   _

 

It’s the first time he’s intentionally written a message to his soulmate and used their bond.  The first time he’s been the one to reach out.

 

_ Thank you.  Sleep well, Kuroo. _

 

He feels like he can hear Azumane’s voice, can see the kind smile on his face as he starts to drift off to sleep.

 

Maybe he was being swept away into an endless ocean.  But he wasn’t alone.


	5. kiyo's heart is burning

“Doesn’t it get kind of hard and awkward?”

 

Daiki rolls his head along the the back of the couch so he can stare at Sawamura.  He’s still not entirely sure how or why exactly he got stuck sitting here with one of his soulmate’s boyfriend’s soulmates.  Well he knows it’s because he insisted on joining Makoto when he came to visit Mikoshiba and Sawamura happened to be here too and Daiki knows that technically he should probably be glad that Mikoshiba even let him in considering the last time they saw each other Daiki had threatened to castrate Mikoshiba.

 

It hadn’t even been a misunderstanding or anything.  Daiki just really has a hard time liking Mikoshiba.  He doesn’t know if it’s the attitude he has that rubs Daiki the wrong way or the fact that Makoto is so far gone on the guy and Daiki is protective of his soulmate that every disagreement Makoto has with Mikoshiba just makes Daiki’s claws come out.

 

But that’s not the point.  The point is they’re both still here on Mikoshiba’s couch and Sawamura is talking to him and Daiki hasn’t been listening.  

 

“What?”

 

Sawamura scoffs a little and shakes his head like he knows to expect Daiki’s less than stellar attention span but isn’t upset by it.

 

“Working in an adult store.  Doesn’t it get, you know, hard sometimes?”

 

Daiki thinks about it, actually considers the question while Sawamura waits patiently like he has nothing better to be doing on a Saturday afternoon than sit here making small talk with Daiki.  

 

“Eh not really."  He shrugs.  “I mean you get weird people in any kind of job where you deal with actual people and not some faceless companies.  We just get a slightly different brand I ‘spose.”

 

Sawamura nods his head and they go back to watching whatever shitty movie is playing on Mikoshiba’s tv.  Why neither of them have left yet seeing as how their soulmates are out on a date he’s not entirely sure.

 

“So no real problems, uh, pop up while you’re there?”

 

Daiki starts to respond without even looking away from the tv.  “I mean we get the occasional weirdo there just to giggle over toys and stare at the dvd covers in the back room but nothing too-”  He looks over and sees the smirk on Sawamura’s face and it hits him.  “Are you asking me if I get a boner at work,” Daiki asks, voice flat.

 

Sawamura snickers.  “I feel that it’s a legitimate question.  I mean you’re around all that stuff.  You see people buying it. Surely you wonder about things and have a lot of time on your hands since it’s probably pretty quiet in there.”

 

“I am around it, yes.  I do see people buying weird shit.  I do occasionally wonder but its usually much safer to stay away from it because once you accidentally imagine some middle aged lady using the pasties she’s buying it’s hard to look her in the face without busting out laughing.  It does stay pretty quiet in there and I’m pretty sure I actually took a nap the other night.”

 

The cushions shift as Sawamura turns and braces his back on the armrest, knee brushing Daiki’s hip as he settles in so he can look at Daiki without twisting to the side.

 

“But no awkward boners?”

 

Daiki sighs and hunches down into the couch cushions.  Somehow this topic always comes up.  Probably because he works in an adult store, spends a quarter of his free time flipping through gravure magazines, and - as he was once told by a sweet little old lady who pinched his ass cheek and made him reconsider the benefits of living in general - he looked and sounded like walking sex.  Whatever the hell that meant.  

 

“I don’t really get those,” he finally replies after what’s probably too long of a pause to be anything but uncomfortable.

 

“Awkward boners?”

 

“Boners in general.”

 

Sawamura stares at him for a few moment in silence and Daiki stares right back.

 

“Shit,” Sawamura says.  “Shit.  Sorry.  I just assumed - which was dumb of me.  I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or offend you.  I know you work in an adult store but does talking about sex and boners and stuff bother you?”

 

“Only when people insist that I’m lying about it.”

 

Sawamura tilts his head to watch the tv for a bit before he nudges Daiki’s hip with his knee and asks cautiously, “So dick jokes are okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Daiki says with a laugh.  “Dick jokes are okay.”

 

 

It’s a little surprising that Sawamura is so chill about it.  Pretty much everyone else he had ever had any version of this conversation with made it into a huge deal or tried to tell him he was lying and just needed to find the right person or insisted on him explaining every little detail and turning everything all clinical on him.  Sawamura just asks what he’s comfortable joking or talking about and tells Daiki to let him know if he crosses a line with something.  It’s… nice.  It’s also nice that even after finding out about it Sawamura doesn’t seem to want to stop flirting with him.  It’s been awhile since anyone really flirted with him.  Or, well, since anyone flirted with him when he wasn’t at work and ringing up their flavored lubes and anal beads.  He’s just waiting for it to come to a crashing halt somehow.  But even if it would it’s not like he’s stuck here.  Hell he could probably manage to never see Sawamura again if he really tried.

 

That thought comforts him when Sawamura presses his knee into Daiki’s hip yet again and says,  “Okay so I have to ask.”

 

“Ask what?”  Daiki asks cautiously.  Here it is.  Sawamura’s gonna say something totally douchey like he can’t believe Daiki’s not interested in sex or that it’s a waste or that he could change Daiki’s mind if he lets him.  He’s heard it all before and it already hurts just imagining the words falling from Sawamura’s lips.

 

Fuck Daiki’s getting attached to people too quickly these days.  He blames Tetsu and Makoto.

 

“Is it like absolutely zero?  No sexual stuff at all?  Not even like getting yourself off or anything?  Or is it more no sexual attraction?”  Daiki narrows his eyes and gives Sawamura a look.  “What?  Line crossed?”

 

“No.  I just.  You’re not asking the questions or saying the shit I’m used to hearing.”

 

Sawamura laughs almost wistfully, eyes flickering to the tv before landing back on Daiki’s face.  Daiki still can’t believe he’s basically having a mini heart to heart with someone.  On Mikoshiba’s couch of all places.  Tetsu is probably feeling proud without even knowing why right now.

 

“I mean, I get a lot of shitty questions when the topic of dating and romance and happily ever after comes up so I can kind of understand the frustrating questions thing.  You know,” Sawamura contemplates, “having three soulmates surprisingly worked out okay considering the whole aromantic thing.”

 

“Winding up with a soulmate who’s already dating someone worked out pretty awesome for me too.  I never put much stock in soulmates and once I realized I wasn’t into sex or romance I wondered who’d be unlucky enough to be stuck with me.”

 

They eventually get back to Sawamura’s question and Daiki explains that yes he does get off from time to time but it’s not like he sees someone and wants to fuck them instantly or whatever.  It’s more of a stress reliever or something to occasionally pass time when he’s bored out of his mind.  It’s honestly more trouble than it’s worth most of the time.  That leads to more questions and normally Daiki would be irritated and tired of talking but Sawamura’s questions aren’t dumb.  He’s actually curious about Daiki’s comforts and interest levels and it’s a nice change.  The last person he really talked to like this about this kind of stuff was Satsuki back when he first realized he wasn’t quite like the other guys on the team.

 

Daiki’s not really sure when Sawamura’s knee against his hip becomes Sawamura’s entire leg against his thigh.  Nor is he entirely sure when, exactly, Sawamura’s hand winds up on his knee - and keeps coming back even after Sawamura gestures while talking.

 

Sawamura teases him a little when the topic gets to making out and Daiki not having a ton of experience with it - it’s not exactly easy to gain experience when most everyone he’s ever come across has wanted a direct line into his pants and little else - but then he pats Daiki’s knee and tells him that if he ever wants to change that all Daiki has to do is let him know and then Daiki’s thinking about it.  Wondering what it might be like to kiss someone who he knows doesn’t expect a long romance or a good fuck to come out of it.  What it might be like to drag Sawamura over into his lap and have him smirking down - because Daiki just knows he’d be smirking - before pressing their lips together.  He wonders what Sawamura might taste like, if his lips might be chapped.

 

He wonders what it’s like to kiss someone just for the sake - and comfort - of kissing them.  So he wraps his fingers around the back of Sawamura’s neck, pulls him forward, and finds out.

 

 

 

Seijuurou freezes in the entryway to his living room and Makoto bumps into him.  He scrubs at his eyes, pressing until little lights pop up behind his lids because no way did he just actually see what he thought he saw.  He opens his eyes when Makoto leans to the side and laughs softly.

 

“Babe.”

 

“Yeah, Sei?”

 

“Correct me if I’m wrong.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Your soulmate - who is not interested in sex -  is making out with one of my soulmates - who is not interested in a relationship - on my couch.”  Said soulmates don’t even seem to notice their audience and Seijuurou cringes when Aomine lets out a breathy groan because that is his couch.  How is he supposed to sit on that knowing that those two have defiled it in this way.  “Babe you’re not correcting me.”

 

Makoto laughs again, louder, and Seijuurou hears Daichi’s voice in his head saying something about perverted soulmates spying on him.

 

“That would be because you’re not wrong, love.”

 

“I need to burn my couch,” Seijuurou states, loud enough to be heard clearly.  Aomine drags his hand out from under Daichi’s shirt and flips him off to the sound of Daichi’s laughter.

 

He and Aomine might never be best friends but he supposes anyone who can make Daichi laugh so gleefully is at least not entirely horrible.

 

 

—

 

Daichi winces when a pile of books slams onto the library table.  Yoshikawa smiles at him sheepishly as he settles into the chair next to Akaashi and Daichi bites his lip to keep from laughing as Akaashi carefully straightens up the pile of notes he had been working on rewriting before Yoshikawa’s entrance.

 

Yoshikawa opens his mouth.

 

“Here with more soulmate fun facts?”

 

He snaps his mouth shut and looks around in confusion until Daichi takes pity on him and points under the table where Aomine is curled up on the floor using Daichi’s book bag as a pillow.

 

“Do you sleep at home?  Like.  Ever?”  Daichi snorts at Yoshikawa’s disbelieving tone.  “I mean I think every time I’ve seen you you’ve been asleep or close to it.”

 

“I like naps.”

 

“You like trying to distract Tachibana while he’s taking tests,” Akaashi says.

 

“I do not distract him while taking tests.  I try to help him for those.  Which he refuses ‘cause he’s a goody goody.  I distract him when he’s having gross makeout sessions with the asshole.”

 

“Seijuurou is not an asshole, Aomine.”  Daichi kicks at Aomine’s shoulder, grinning when he hears a grunt and Aomine reaches out, fingers sneaking under his jeans to wrap around his ankle and tug lightly.

 

Daichi notes Yoshikawa watching them, obviously fascinated, as Akaashi lets out a weary sigh and wads up a piece of paper before throwing it under the table.  Yoshikawa had been, surprisingly, a breath of fresh air with all of this soulmate stuff.  Not necessarily because of the facts that he’s so fond of sharing with them - some of which seem oddly specific and almost personal feeling - but because he treats them so normal.  Other than the times it feels like he’s just studying them, which could just be brushed off as someone simply trying to get to know know a group of twenty people as varied as they are if not for the slightly clinical look he gets sometimes, Yoshikawa doesn’t treat them strangely.  He doesn’t treat them like some side show and stare at them or act like they’re going to start performing magic tricks or anything.

 

It’s nice to talk to someone who knows that they’re soulmates but still treats them like just a bunch of normal university age kids.  Much more time together and Daichi thinks they might almost all become friends with him.

 

 

_ Why does Knittens like my underwear drawer so much?  This is the third time this week she’s been in there. _

 

Daichi shakes his when Ai’s voice filters into his mind, quickly followed by Seijuurou’s which is loud enough to override whatever sassing competition Akaashi and Aomine are having.

 

_ She likes the way your buttcheeks smell. _

 

_ One: ew.  Two: why do you say these things to me?  Three: my underwear smells like laundry soap not buttcheeks. _

 

_ You roomed with my baby brother, you still room with him.  You know things about us Mikoshibas.  This is my only defense against you. _

 

Daichi keeps himself out of it, wondering briefly if they are ever going to be able to figure out how to shut each other off since right now it just kind of comes and goes as it pleases.  Tobio is silent but he’s not sure if it is a conscious choice or if he’s just off in his own thoughts.

 

_ I’m gonna kill him so dead. _  Daichi can almost imagine Ai banging his head against a wall as this repeats half a dozen times. _  So so dead. _

 

_ He’s going to murder me and I’m not even sure I won’t like it _ , Seijuurou’s voice in his head sounds equal parts amused and pleased.

 

_ Okay that’s more than enough.   _ Daichi finally intervenes after a headaches starts threatening to form from Ai’s repetition.   _ I’m going to tell Aomine to take a nap and tell your boyfriend about your weird kinks if you don’t knock it off. _

 

Daichi comes back to the conversation around him and he notes that Aomine is now curled a little closer to him under the table and Akaashi has a smug look on his face while Yoshikawa talks and he’s not entirely sure he wants to know what he missed.

 

“A lot of the reason soulmates aren’t all that common,” Yoshikawa is saying, “is just because they are so far apart.  As easily as the world can be traveled and explored these days soulmates are scattered where once upon a time everyone’s world was smaller so their soulmates were closer.  Where they might have been the next town over now they’re on an entirely different continent.”

 

“Like, a cultural evolution, right? You're saying that since the world is more global soulmates evolved to be more global too?”  Yoshikawa looks surprised.  Daichi’s not sure if it’s because Aomine is still under the table and actually listening or because Aomine responded with such an intelligent response.  “I can hear your disbelieving silence from all the way down here.  Sawamura, is he doing that fish mouth trying to form words thing?”  Aomine finally lets go of Daichi’s calf - and when the hell did his hand make it all the way up there - to slip his hand out and smack Daichi’s shin when he starts laughing instead of answering right away.  “Yo, Sawamura.  Don’t make me get up and look for myself.”

 

Akaashi coughs delicately into his hand and covers his mouth but Daichi can see the humor dancing in his eyes and he’s glad to see it there, even just this little bit, since whatever fight he and Kuroo had seemed to have taken a lot out of him.

 

“You should get up anyway,” Akaashi says, “sleeping on the library floor doesn’t exactly help avoid the weird looks people shoot our way you know.”

 

“They’re gonna look at us weird no matter what, so what does it matter?” Aomine shoots back.

 

 

Kiyo watches and rubs at his chest as Akaashi, Sawamura, and Aomine bicker almost playfully.  There’s an ache in his chest that he plays off as heartburn when Akaashi questions him but it pulses in time with the buzzing in his head and the pins and needles down his spine and he can’t help but wonder if this is going to work.  Or if it is all just going to bite him in the ass in the end.

 

—

 

Soulmates are an interesting thing.  No one is really sure of their purpose or how the connection is made or, really, much of anything about them.  This is largely due to the extreme decline in soulmates discovering each other.  No one is really sure about why that’s been happening either.

 

What used to be abundant is now a rarity.  Where fate or nature or whatever deity it was that drew soulmates together used to scribble out soulmates left and right now it simply waits and plucks souls seemingly at random.  Whatever grand designs fate may have are being kept under lock and key.

 

 

“Don’t you get it?”  Kiyo tosses a stack of papers down and they all watch as the sheets scatter across the top of the table.  “You don’t do you?  There’s a reason that no one talks about soulmates much anymore.  Why they’re so rare and mysterious.  It’s because almost every single time soulmates start to crop up they just disappear.  One day they’re all over the news and the next its like no one has ever heard of them being soulmates.  I’m not even making this up a little.”  He picks up sheet after sheet, handing them to around the group, and each one has articles and posts and clippings about someone finding their soulmate and then nothing after that.  “It’s especially freaky when its a group.  Because with them it’s not just that I can’t find mention of them being soulmates anymore.  I can’t even find  _ them _ anymore.  Ever.”

 

“What do you mean, ever?”  Yachi asks tentatively.

 

“I mean one day there’s an article about how a group of twelve twenty-five year olds discovered each other as soulmates during a winter storm that had them snowed in in a diner and then a month later I can’t find any mention of them ever again.  Nothing regarding schools or marriages or business or even an update on social media.  Nothing.  It’s like after a certain day they all just got erased.”

 

“So what’re you saying?  That we’re gonna get ‘erased’ somehow or something?”  Aomine tosses his handful of papers onto the table with a scoff.  “Yeah, sure.  Right.  Gonna need a big fucking eraser to get rid of me.”

 

Kiyo looks less than impressed by the reaction and he slowly gathers the loose papers back up.

 

“I just think you guys should be warned what you might be up against.  There’s a reason no one really talks about soulmates.  And it doesn’t exactly look like a happy fluffy kittens and sunshine kind of reason.”

 

Suga smiles kindly at him and helps him pick up all his papers.  “Thank you for the heads up.  We’ll keep it in mind.  I promise.”

 

 

 

He doesn’t mean to lose his temper with them.  He just needs them to take this seriously.  Or as seriously as he can get they to take it for now without showing too much of his own hand here.  Kiyo watches them talk amongst themselves for a few minutes from his spot on the second floor of the library.  They’re an interesting group to be sure.  A large one too.  Hopefully this doesn’t turn into some kind of colossal disaster.

 

He pauses a moment and looks around the library, sure that someone is watching him watching them.  But there;s no one he can see that seems like they’re paying him any attention and he writes it off as nerves and the headache he has brewing.  He rubs at his temples, the ever present connection nothing but fuzzy static this far away, and hopes that this will work.

 

They need to make this work.

 

He needs this to work.


	6. blood is thicker than water

“You know what?  Fine.”

 

Koushi can hear the clock above the dresser ticking away in the silence that follows.  It’s been stuck on 12:22 for months now.  The second hand ticking and jumping but never actually getting anywhere.  Koushi brushes a few strands of hair out of his face and Issei follows the motion with narrow eyes.  Koushi knows exactly what he’s looking at; the colored band of skin around his pinkie finger is a shimmering dark blue that lets him know Izuki is a neutral mood, probably zoning out to a game show rerun or something instead of doing his homework.

 

Issei has the edge of the kitchen counter in a death grip and Koushi hates the fact that they haven’t held hands since the day Koushi found out what the colored bands on his pinkies meant.  Hates the fact that he’s almost forgotten what Issei’s fingers feel like between his own.  It’s only been a just over a month but it feels like ages.

 

Issei can’t stop staring at the bands.  They’ll be talking or eating or walking to the train and between one breath and another it’s like Issei shuts him out, eyes focused on one of the bands.  Sometimes it’s the shift in colors as one of Koushi’s soulmates goes through a sudden change of emotions.  Sometimes it’s just seeing the colors standing out on Koushi’s light skin.  Sometimes Koushi doesn’t even know what it is that catches Issei’s attention but he’ll look up mid sentence and Issei will be staring at his finger with a frown, brows furrowed with his disapproval.  Koushi’s been tempted to start wearing gloves all the time.

 

He drops his hand and Issei’s eyes follow the motion and there’s the disapproving scowl.

 

Koushi hates it.  Hates the fact that something he never asked to have happen, something he never really even thought about once he and Issei started dating, has caused such a rift between them.  Issei used to hold Koushi’s hand to his lips and murmur sappy things to him as he kissed along Koushi’s knuckles.  Now he freezes when their hands brush on accident.  It’s like Koushi’s become some kind of diseased creature now that he has soulmates.

 

Soulmates that make Issei tense and turn cold any time Koushi tries to mention them.  Soulmates that Koushi doesn’t understand but can’t talk to anyone about.  Soulmates that he’s not dating and has no intention of dating - or doing anything romantic or sexual with - because he’s in love with Matsukawa Issei.

 

The same Matsukawa Issei who flinches when Koushi reaches out for him.

 

Koushi’s fingers curl and he tugs the ends of his long sleeves down until they cover his pinkies.  He drops his hands back to his sides.

 

The echoing tick of the clock fills the kitchen.

 

“Fine,” Koushi repeats softly.  “Goodbye, Mattsun.”

 

He doesn’t exactly expect Issei to come chasing after him as he leaves Issei’s apartment or to run up to him, breathless and sweating, at the train station or to blow up his phone with calls that night.  But the complete silence is a surprise.  Koushi wakes up the next morning and drags himself to class without a goodnight or good morning call or message.  He pulls out his phone on the train ride to class and stares down at it blankly, eyes shifting from the phone to the colored band on his other hand and back again.  His phone goes back into his pocket and he stares out at the passing scenery with unseeing eyes.

 

 

It takes half a day before Kazunari is concerned over the fact that the band on his pinkie has gone from the usual pale orange - Suga’s neutral tone - to a vibrant teal and it hasn’t changed since.  A few more hours with that teal ring and he’s searching out Shun in the Arts building.  This is not right.  Suga may not be eternal sunshine and happiness but this is a color, an emotion, that Kazunari’s never seen from Suga and he’s worried that as far as he knows it hasn’t changed since sometime before he woke up.

 

Kazunari drops down into an empty chair in the small computer lab Shun’s working in - reserved specifically for the film and digital arts students - and rolls his way across the room until he bumps into Shun’s chair.

 

“We have a problem,” Kazunari states when Shun glances at him.

 

Shun blinks a few times in confusion.  Or he’s just trying to adjust to looking at something that isn’t on a computer screen.  Either way it’s the same kind of adorable fast blinking scrunchy nose look.  He holds up his left hand and wiggles his fingers until Shun’s eyes focus on the bright teal band.  Shun sucks in a sharp breath and looks down at his own right hand like he’s seeing it for the first time and, if Kazunari has learned anything it’s that Shun gets so wrapped up in his filmwork and editing that it probably is the first time he’s consciously looked at it all day.

 

“That’s a weird color for Suga.”

 

“I know.  It’s been like that all day.  What do we do about it?  I tried sending him a text earlier but he hasn’t replied.”

 

“Do we know anyone around here that we can ask?”

 

Kazunari had thought of that.  But the only people he could remember Suga really talking about were Sawamura and Azumane and he knew both of them were at some Literature department event this week.  Maybe Tanaka would know something but he doesn’t really want to risk Tanaka going overboard and potentially upsetting Suga even more.

 

“I can’t think of anyone.”

 

Shun sighs and saves his work before logging off the computer and turning to Kazunari.  “Well,” he announces, “looks like we’re going for a little trip.”

 

 

Their ride towards Suga’s place is quiet enough.  Though Shun is texting Kazunari ridiculous puns and weird pictures which isn’t a big deal but Kazunari is trying to write a message to his little sister and it’s hard when every few minutes he hears a snicker from across the aisle and a new notification pops up and of course he has to look.  Because he is who he is and Shun finds some really hilariously weird stuff to send him sometimes.  He knows half of the reason Shun’s doing it today is to distract them both from the vivid teal band on their pinkies and to try to keep their own a fairly neutral calm color.  The last thing they want to do is unintentionally worry Suga.

 

Kazunari hooks his arm around Shun’s elbow when they get to the station and drags him off towards Suga’s place.  He’s not sure how or why Shun knows where Suga lives but he follows Shun’s directions without question.  The doubts don’t come until they get to the apartment building and are standing outside Suga’s door, ready to knock.

 

“Um, Shun?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What do we do if Suga’s not home?  Or doesn’t want to let us in?”

 

“Huh,” Shun says, “I never thought of that.”  He shrugs and knocks.  “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”  

 

They glance at each other when no one answers right away and Shun raises his hand to knock again when the door swings open and if this was a horror movie they were watching Kazunari would be yelling at the characters to run the fuck away because the hallway is all shadows and the person behind the door is a shapeless lump of darkness for a few heartstopping seconds.

 

Then Suga takes a step forward and squints at them.

 

“Izuki?  Takao?”  Suga blinks a few times and rubs at his eyes.  “Am I hallucinating?”

 

Kazunari tsks and shakes head.  “Now, now, Suga.  Is that any way to talk to your soulmates,” he teases.  His breath catches when he sees Suga flinch and he shares another glance with Shun.

 

“Shit,” Shun hisses.  “Okay Suga.  Let us in.  I think we three need to talk a bit.”

 

Suga blinks at them a few times and for a moment Kazunari thinks he’s going to shut the door in their faces but then he steps back and slinks away into the shadows and Kazunari has the hysterical thought of “I’ve seen this horror movie before” before Shun steps inside and drags him with.

 

There’s no immediate disasters to be seen.  Though the curtains are drawn and the lights are off so everything is dark and a little creepy since Kazunari hasn’t been here before and doesn’t know what any of the shadowy forms are for sure.  He trips over a bag of some kind on the floor and Shun guides him into a small armchair.  To his surprise Shun joins him, practically sitting in his lap, but he gets it when Shun nods towards the couch and he spots Suga sprawled across the entire couch and attempting to wrap what looks like every blanket he owns around himself.

 

Kazunari watches the bundle of blankets until it stops shifting and then wonders just what he and Shun are supposed to do.  They still barely even know Suga.  How are they going to do anything to help with whatever his problem is?  Hell he doesn’t even know what kind of approach will work best.  If they should prod at Suga or just let him open up on his own.  He doesn’t want to make it worse on accident by pushing Suga too far and making him pull away even more.

 

“I think Issei and I broke up,” Suga finally says and Kazunari isn’t sure he heard right.  From what he had gotten to see and hear Suga was head over heels in love with Matsukawa and the feeling was entirely mutual.

 

“Wait, what,” Shun asks intelligently after a long pause.

 

“I think we broke up?”

 

“You think you… what happened?”

 

Suga struggles in the blankets for a few moments and finally rolls enough he can look at them.  He takes a deep breath.  Then he tells them.  Tells them how, ever since the marks showed up, Issei keeps getting distracted, keeps getting lost in his own thoughts as he stares at the bands on Suga’s fingers but refuses to talk about it when Suga asks.  Tells them how he’s stopped holding Suga’s hand, how he gets distant, how he looks distressed all the time.  How he and Suga have been arguing - about everything from when to eat and what to watch on tv to who is paying for food or who is visiting the other and what brand of flour to buy.  And none of it ever seems to get resolved when before they could always come to a compromise even on their worst days.

 

Finally he tells them how Issei has been hinting that he doesn’t think he’s enough for Suga, how he doesn’t think that Suga wants or needs him since he has Izuki and Takao.  How he’s considered wearing gloves all the time just so Issei doesn’t have to see the constant reminder that while he may be Suga’s boyfriend he’s not his universe-decided soulmate.

 

All of that is bad enough to bear.

 

It’s when his voice cracks and shakes as he tells the how Issei flinched away with his eyes locked on Suga’s marks when Suga reached out for him that Kazunari’s stomach twists itself into his throat.  Shun makes a distressed noise and gestures for Suga to come over to them and when he manages to wriggle off the couch and shuffle over to the small armchair Shun reaches out and yanks him into their laps.

 

It’s not the most comfortable of positions, especially for Kazunari who is stuck on the bottom of the pile, but something snaps in Suga and he yanks the blankets from himself and curls into them, tears streaming down his face and hiccuping sobs wracking his body as Kazunari and Shun slip their arms around him.

There are wordless mumbles as they rub his back and run their hands through his hair.  Comforting noises that make him hiccup harder for awhile before he slowly sinks into them with little huffy, sniffly breaths.

 

“I just,” he finally says with a watery laugh.  “I don’t even know right now.  I told him that if he couldn’t accept this, these marks and what they mean and the fact that you two are kind of part of my life now, then maybe we shouldn’t keep traveling almost two hours one way just to keep dating and seeing each other.”  Kazunari wipes the tears from Suga’s cheeks and Suga finally looks up and gives him a tired smile.  “And he never said anything.  We just stood there in his kitchen with his dumb broken clock in the bedroom ticking away the seconds and echoing around.  He just kept staring at my hands like he’d never seen them before and I just said ‘Fine goodbye’ and he still didn’t say anything?  No call.  No text.  Nothing.”

 

“That’s it,” Shun says decisively and Kazunari looks up at the wicked grin on his face.  “We’re gonna castrate him.”

 

“What,” Suga squeaks.  Then he throws his arms around Shun’s neck when he moves to stand up and practically drops Suga onto the floor.  “Wait.”

 

“We’re castrating him.  End of discussion.”  Shun nods like that answers everything but he lets Suga tug him back down into their little pile of limbs.

 

“I don’t want him castrated.  I just, ugh.”  Suga lets out a whine and buries his face against Shun’s neck.  “I just want him to not look at me like I’m a stranger.  There’s nothing different about me other than these.”  He pulls away to look down at his hands.  “I mean it’s not like I’m going to leave him and jump into bed with either of you or something.”

 

“Oh I see how it is,” Kazunari teases as he squeezes Suga’s waist, “you’ll jump into our arms but not our beds.”

 

“How rude of you,” Shun tsks after a moment, “my bed is a very nice one.  You know.  For being in a dorm suite I share with three other guys.  If you ignore the smell of sweat and post midterm meltdowns it’s downright homey there.”

 

Suga lets out a disgusted noise and smacks lightly at Shun’s chest and face until Shun squawks when Suga connects with his cheek.

 

“Maybe he just needs a few days without you around to make him realize how lucky he is to have you in his life.  Some time to think about what he wants without the distraction of these bands.  Because, I agree, it’s something that’s part of you now, we’re something part of your life, but if you would want us to stay out of it we would.”

 

“No!  I want you guys here.  I like hanging out with you two and I don’t know if it’s the soulmate thing or not but having you here makes me feel better.”  Suga takes a deep breath.  “Like just you two showing up and sitting here made it easier to breathe somehow.”

 

“Matsukawa probably just needs a little time to realize that.  And to realize that we have no interest in bedding you or romancing you or competing for your affections or whatever it is he’s thinking.”  Kazunari gives Suga a smile that he’s happy to see returned.

 

“And if he doesn’t realize it and ask you to come back then we castrate him,” Shun adds.

 

“You’re not castrating him, Izuki.”

 

“Pssh, you’re such a funsucker sometimes, Suga.”

 

 

Running into Matsukawa and chewing him out hadn’t been on his list of things to do today.  But Kazunari wasn’t one to pass opportunities like this up.  Not when they’re handed to him on a silver platter in the form of Matsukawa Issei stuck in an elevator with him for at least twelve floors.

 

Three floors of silence is all he manages.

 

"You know, Matsukawa.”  Kazunari rounds on him.  “You're kind of being a major asswad and I'm pretty sure you would realize how much fucking fun Izuki and I are much sooner if you'd just get your head out of your ass and realize that Suga is still beyond the fucking moon in love with you.  And only you."

 

“I respect your use of the word ‘asswad’ but I have to ask you to stay out of it.”

 

“I would but you see I’m kind of one of Suga’s soulmates and, like it or not, we’re part of his life and he wants us to be there.  He still, for reasons unknown to me, wants you in it too.”  Matsukawa leans into the corner and crosses his arms.  Kazunari steps closer.  “So stop being such a dick.  Suck it up, Buttercup.  If you want to be part of his life you’re stuck with us too.”

 

Seven floors to go.

 

"You realize cornering me in an elevator isn't exactly intimidating, right?"  Matsukawa raises an eyebrow and smirks at him.

 

Kazunari thinks back to the past week and the various hours of their respective classes that he and Shun and Suga have missed.  Thinks back to a week ago when he had fallen asleep in Suga’s tiny arm chair with Shun and Suga in his lap.  Thinks back to that morning when he had crawled out of bed and pried Suga’s arms from around his waist and stuffed his pillow against Suga’s chest before he woke up.  He gives Matsukawa a sharp grin that would freeze the flames of hell itself and leans even closer.

 

"You realize my bed is the one Suga slept in after crying himself to sleep last night, right?"

 

Four floors left and Kazunari wonders if they’re both making it out of this elevator alive.

 

Matsukawa grimaces like he’s been struck and shuts his eyes.  When he opens them a few moments later his face is disturbingly blank.

 

“Go to hell Takao.”

 

Kazunari holds his left hand in the air between them just below his chest, palm up, and watches the way Matsukawa’s eyes are drawn to it when Kazunari starts rubbing the side of his pinkie with his right thumb.

 

“You see,” Kazunari says pensively, “when you have a soulmate who is in love with his boyfriend and that boyfriend suddenly acts like he’s disgusted by said soulmate, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it you kind of already feel like you’re in hell.”  The band on his pinkie isn’t the vivid teal it was a week ago but it was wavering between the teal of sadness, a deep purple anger, and a silver shimmer of melancholy and Kazunari missed the pale orange of Suga’s general state of being and the mint green of his happiness.

 

Two floors.  Matsukawa is still staring down at his hand.

 

“Shun wants to castrate you.  Suga just wants to be with the man he loves.”

 

His hand drops and Matsukawa’s eyes snap up to meet his.

 

“What about you?”

 

“I just want my friend to be happy.  Soulmate or not.  Neither Shun nor I have any intention of getting between you two.”  The elevator reaches his floor and Kazunari steps away at last.  “Suga may have room in his heart for soulmates to love but right now he only has room to be in love with one person.  And that’s you.”  He steps off the elevator and walks down the hallway without looking back; there’s really nothing else he can do short of locking Matsukawa and Suga in a closet together until they talk things out.

 

He starts listing possible closets he could risk damaging with Suga’s rage.  Just in case.

 

—

 

Tetsurou steps out of the station with Asahi’s words echoing in his mind.

 

_ “No matter what you decide,” _ Asahi said.   _ “If you tell them about you or about our being soulmates or if you make a choice about being in university or changing your focus.  No matter what we’ll be here for you.  I’ll be here for you.  I just want you to be happy, Kuroo.” _

 

It feels like it’s been a long time since someone encouraged him to make a choice about something based purely on his own happiness and damn the consequences.

 

Half a block from his childhood home Akaashi’s voice pops up in his mind.

 

_ “I don’t know because you won’t tell me.  But I care.  We all care.  Our support isn’t conditional on you being a good little son.  We just want you to be happy.” _

 

Being happy seems like it should be such a simple thing.  A day like today was made for happiness with its blue sky and puffy clouds and laughter from somewhere nearby floating on a cool breeze.  All Tetsurou really feels is that weird drifting sensation like he’s not really anywhere, not a real person, and certainly not happy.  His palm itches when he turns the final corner onto his parent’s block.

 

A somewhat poorly drawn teddy bear is in the center of his palm with tiny flowers around it.  Somehow it manages to look a little like the man who drew it and Tetsurou finds a smile on his face for the first time since he woke up that morning.  It gives him the strength to take a deep breath and knock on the door before stepping into his parent’s house.  He doesn’t expect today to go all that well.  He’s not even entirely sure what he wants to tell them or how much of himself he wants to reveal.  But he needs to do this.  He can’t just keep floating along passively through his life like he has been the last few years.

 

A steady ticking from the clock in the kitchen reminds him of a blinking cursor.

 

His palm itches again and he glances down to see  _ Good Luck _ printed near the base of his thumb, exceptionally neat considering it’s Asahi’s handwriting, and he can picture the look of concentration etched onto Asahi’s face as he focuses on making his writing legible.  The picture in his head sends warmth floating through him and he doesn’t realize he’s smiling until his mother steps into the hallway to greet him and calls attention to it.

 

“Oh I know that look,” his mother teases.  “Got a certain someone on your mind?”

 

“Oh, uh, not really.  Just thinking about something one of my friends said the other day.”

 

His mother obviously doesn’t believe him but, thankfully, she drops it in favor of pulling him into a hug.

 

This is going to be harder than he anticipated.  Especially since he’s not entirely sure what he’s here to accomplish.

 

 

Does he want to tell them he’s considering dropping out or changing his focus?  He ponders while he helps his mother prepare dinner.

 

Does he want to tell them about his - very much male - soulmate?  He wonders as he listens to his dad talk about work while dinner is cooking.

 

Does he want to tell them he’s never going to settle down with a nice girl because he is not, in fact, interested in girls?  He asks himself while he eats dinner and smiles when he knows he should even though he’s not listening to the conversation.

 

Does he want to hide away from them and risk being miserable forever?  Does he want to tell them and risk never being welcome here again?

 

 

His palm itches and he looks down to see what he thinks is supposed to be a cat version of himself with a crooked grin on its feline face.  Asahi will never be a world famous artist but the sight of the silly doodle makes his heart beat steadier and he takes a deep breath.

 

 

It isn’t going quite as horribly as he had anticipated at first.  His parents seem more confused than upset when he talks about potentially changing focus in his classes even if it will take him a bit longer to graduate - he opts to leave out the consideration of dropping out completely - but they seem somewhat open to discussion about it since it is what he’ll be doing with the rest of his life and all that.  There’s even talk about him potentially checking out some internships and seeing if there’s anything particular that catches his attention.

 

And then - there’s always an ‘and then’ in his life it seems - his father mentions that he read something in the newspaper about the soulmate group that cropped up at the university and wasn’t Tetsurou part of that?

 

“Did you finally figure out who your soulmate was?”

 

He doesn’t really want to lie to his parents.  “Yeah.  They’re really amazing.  Very kind, a little timid, but a really great sense of humor.”

 

“She sounds lovely,” his mother almost coos and he tries so hard not to cringe.  “Will we ever get to meet her?”

 

There it is.  His palm is starting to itch again but he can’t look away from his parents across the table from him.

 

“Tetsurou?”  His father asks, concern lacing his voice.

 

“Well.  Um.  She’s not a she.”  He swallows whatever lump has lodged itself in his throat.  “My soulmate is a guy.”

 

If things weren’t so serious Tetsurou might actually be laughing at the looks of confusion on his parents’ faces and the way they’re obviously trying to process his words.  The way they keep glancing at each other and then back at him you’d think he had broken the news in a different language.  Maybe he should try a different language.  He wonders if he knows how to say ‘My soulmate has a dick just like me and I might kind of want to see it someday’ in French.  He could kill two birds with one stone.

 

“Oh,” his mother recovers first and Tetsurou brings his attention back from his poor French skills to listen to her stumble through her sentence.  “Well.  I suppose nothing says you have to be romantically involved with your soulmate.  Seems strange that your soulmate is a male as well.”

 

“Actually out of the twenty of us only one is a female.  And she actually has two soulmates.  There’s really nothing concrete about soulmates anyway.  At least nothing we’ve been able to find in the research we’ve done yet.”

 

“Two soulmates?” His father finally comes back to the conversation.  “Isn’t that a bit, I don’t know… improper.” his father lets his voice drop off and Tetsurou can hear the disapproval in it.

 

“Yachi is one of the sweetest most kind-hearted people I have ever met and her soulmates are lucky to be with her.”

 

“Now when you say ‘be with her’ you mean…?” Now his mother’s disapproval is practically tangible and Tetsurou tries to swallow down the anger building in him.  This.  This is what none of the other’s know about.  This is what they don’t understand.  Their families are supportive and kind and open minded.  

 

Except for Akaashi’s, he reminds himself.  Except for the friend you encouraged and supported right up until you got too scared that your parents might find out who you had been talking to so much.  That they might make connections you weren’t ready to confront.

 

His jaw quivers.  His fingers feel cold.

 

Here he is.  Doing it all over again.  Listening numbly while his parents judge one of his friends and not saying a single word about how close their preferences might be to his own.  He’s listening to his parents speak poorly about Yachi.  Yachi, of all people.  Yachi who listened to him pour his heart out.  Yachi who promised to help him become real.  Yachi who never had a bad thing to say about anyone, even when they were cruel to her.

 

“Stop,” he mutters.  Then he says it again when he realizes they didn’t hear him.  “Just.  Stop.”  His parents look at him in surprise.  He’s never been one to mouth off or talk back to them before.

 

“I don’t know that these friends and this soulmate are a very good influence on you.”  It’s his father’s ‘you’re toeing the line’ voice and so much of Tetsurou wants to apologize.  Make the excuse that he’s just tired.  It would be the truth.  He is tired.  So very very tired.

 

“You don’t know anything about Yachi.  You don’t know anything about my friends.  Guess what.  Yachi’s in a poly relationship with both her soulmates.  One of them is bi the other is straight.  Guess what.  Out of all these soulmates you know what we have?  People who are pansexual.  People who are aromantic.  Asexual.  Gay.  Guess what.  That last one applies to me.”

 

“Excuse me?”  His mother’s hands are gripping the edge of the table so hard that he’s surprised it hasn’t cracked under the pressure.

 

“I am not straight.  I don’t want to get married and settle down with some nice girl and have a neat little family.  I don’t even know if I ever want to be married at all.  And if I would it wouldn’t be to a girl.  I’m gay.  I don’t want a girlfriend.  I want a boyfriend.”

 

“Tetsurou,” his father warns.

 

His palm itches again and he laughs.  The whole thing is so ridiculous somehow.

 

“I’m gay.  I have a male soulmate.  I don’t want to continue with my classes.  None of these have anything to do with the others so don’t try to blame any of it on anything else.  This is just who I am.  I’m sorry it’s not what you wanted or expected from me.  But.  That’s just how it is.”

 

 

Tetsurou rubs his hand over his face and blindly pulls out his phone, barely even paying attention as he stumbles back towards the station.  He’d be lucky to get the last train back to campus but no way was he staying in that house with his parents.  He wasn’t sure he’d ever feel comfortable stepping foot in there ever again.

 

“Kuroo?  What’s going on?  I thought you were going home this weekend.  That was this weekend right?  We moved the group meeting to next weekend cause you were gonna be busy.”

 

He smiles at the way her voice seems to unknot something in his chest.

 

“Yachi.  I know it’s kind of out of nowhere but can I come stay with you guys?  I, uh, I don’t wanna be by myself right now.”

 

“Oh, Kuroo.  Of course.  Do you want me to stay on the phone til you get closer?  Oh Bokuto and Tobio are here is that alright?”

 

Of course she’s already figured it out.  He had forgotten to tell his parents how smart she was on top of everything else.

 

“That sounds wonderful.”

 

 

He doesn’t go back to his dorm room until after classes Monday night and he can’t bring himself to even bother getting up for his Tuesday classes.  What’s the point when he doesn’t even plan on continuing them much longer?  He’s perfectly content to wallow - pity party for one anyone? - until at least Wednesday night when he and Kouta and Daichi have their weekly watch movies and complain about life meet up.  But the knock at his door ruins his plans and he shuffles over with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his scowl firmly in place.

 

Akaashi looks him over when he opens the door and then sighs softly before elbowing his way inside and shoving a bag of Tetsurou’s favorite toffee flavored candies against his chest.  He pours them both a cup of hot chocolate from a thermos he digs out of his bag and manhandles Tetsurou until they’re both propped against the wall with Tetsurou’s laptop open and logged onto Akaashi’s Netflix account.

 

Tetsurou wakes up the next morning with his face buried in Akaashi’s neck, Akaashi’s arm around his shoulder, and what feels suspiciously like drool on his cheek when he moves to pull away.  His laptop is somewhere near their feet.  He looks up just in time to see Akaashi grimace and make an aborted attempt to touch his neck.

 

“We never speak of this again,” Akaashi declares.  He waits until Tetsurou agrees and then he scoots down to stretch out on the actual mattress instead of leaning against the wall.

 

If Tetsurou wakes up a few hours later with his cheek in another drool damp spot on Akaashi’s chest, well, they’re not talking about it so Akaashi can’t be too vengeful.  He hopes.


	7. welcome to chaos

“You know we keep meeting like this I’m gonna have to rethink my stance on you being harmless.  You’re seriously edging into creeper territory.”  Aomine is tossing a ball in the air and catching it without looking, eyes sliding from Kiyo to the court where most of the others are playing volleyball.  “This is like the fourth time you’ve ‘accidentally’ bumped into us in the last couple weeks.  Got some new soulmate wisdom to bless us with today?”

 

Kiyo shrugs a bit sheepishly.  “You guys are really the only ones who at least humor me when I start in with the whole soulmate thing.  It’s kind of a nice change.”

 

“A freak hanging out with a bunch of freaks.  Nice.”

 

“You really do not need to be so rude, Aomine.”

 

Kiyo does his best to not startle when Kuroko appears practically out of thin air or laugh when Aomine almost falls off the bench he’s stretched out on in surprise.  He fails on both counts but he tries.  Which he figures gives him some credit of some kind.  He rubs just under his eye and lets his attention drift around the gym.  Aomine and Kuroko are arguing playfully next to him.  Tachibana is sitting on one of the benches down on the edge of the court with Yachi and Nanase and the rest of the group is playing some form of volleyball.  He’s not sure of the exact rules but he’s pretty sure that fifteen people aren’t supposed to be on the court at one time in any form of real volleyball.

 

But volleyball is not something he’s ever paid attention to before so who knows.  Maybe there is a special rule for fifteen people playing at once.  Maybe you can have fifteen people on the court at once if at least half of them are soulmates with the other half and some of them are former volleyball players and it’s the third Tuesday of the month.  He watches them playing, mind drifting towards how much he’s potentially missing back at home and just how much trouble he’s probably causing simply by not being where he was supposed to be.  Before much longer the group calls an end to their game and starts heading towards the bleachers to gather their things.

 

Kiyo is distracted by the sun setting outside and misses whatever quiet conversations they’re having with each other.  It’s nice to just sit there in the peace and quiet of his own mind and watch the colors paint the sky and slowly fade into darkness.  It’s been far too long since the static in his mind has been silent and the sudden lack of it is nearly overwhelming.

 

_ About fucking time. _

 

Kiyo does not squeak in panic and surprise.  He inhales sharper than he intends and it has a particularly high pitch to it that has Aomine and Tanaka giving him strange looks and he may almost slide himself backwards off the bleacher he’s still sitting on.  But he doesn’t panic.

 

_ Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass you’ve been?  Impressive really considering you weren’t even home. _

 

His eyes dart from one doorway to the next, looking for that familiar figure.

 

The bleachers rattle and Kiyo’s eyes snap to the end of them near the far wall.

 

“Looking for me, Sweet Prince?”

 

He’s sure his eyes light up and he can’t keep the grin off his face when he hops to his feet.

 

“Shiro!”

 

It’s a spectacle, he knows, when he hurries along the rattling bleachers and throws himself into Shiro’s arms.  Arms that open to accept him even though Shiro is frowning at him.  Arms that wrap around him safe and warm and he wonders, for the tiniest flicker of time, if any of the others around them know or understand the absolute safety of having a soulmate yet.

 

_ Soulma- what did you do?  Kiyo I swear if this is some half cocked mess that I have to drag you out of again… _

 

Shiro slowly settles him back on his feet and Kiyo huffs softly.

 

_ No.  This is not a mess.  You do not have to drag me out of anything.  They’re soulmates.  They were all bound to be soulmates and destined to meet eventually.  I may have just given them a little push to all be in the same place at one time. _

 

“Given them a little… Kiyo you can’t just play with fates like that.  No matter what you- why does that one look like you?  You two could be siblings.  Shit.”

 

Kiyo glances to Sugawara and shrugs.  Really they don’t look that much alike.  Sure they have similar grins and light fluffy hair but that’s about it as far as he can see.  If anything it’s Shiro who has a sibling here in the form of Mikoshiba.  They’re almost the same size and build but Shiro’s eyes are a bright blue and his dark hair is less spiky and more borderline curly, especially when he lets it grow longer like now.

 

“Great,” Shiro continues, looking at Sawamura and blocking out Kiyo’s grumbling mental complaints at being ignored, “that one glares like you do.”

 

“Yeah well that one has your eyes,” Kiyo points to Nitori and then gestures to Mikoshiba, “and that one’s built just like you so, really, I’m not the one who has any explaining to do.”

 

“Oh you, my Sweet, have so much explaining to do.  But we need to leave.  Now.”

 

The nickname makes him pause; he knows it means Shiro is actually getting upset with him now.

 

“What?  No.  I’m not leaving.  I can’t leave yet.  I have too much to do.”

 

He can feel everyone watching them now, conversations dropped in favor of trying to figure out what’s going on.  Kiyo lets out a frustrated noise and glances around.  Nitori actually looks least confused and Kiyo doesn’t get why until Sawamura tilts his head slightly, eyes flickering towards Nitori, and then snorts softly.  Apparently they have a telepathic connection similar to his and Shiro’s.  Even with as much time as he’s spent with them he hasn’t figured out all of their various abilities and connections yet.

 

“One: don’t think I was asking.  You don’t have time to be playing like this. Because, two: we need to leave now.”  Kiyo finally notes Shiro’s tone, the way he still hasn’t taken his hand off Kiyo’s waist, the tenseness in his body, and, he feels dumb for not noticing it right away considering he was pressed against it, his collapsible staff tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie.  The feeling of being watched suddenly makes sense as more than just the remnants of their temporarily severed connection.

 

“Oh,” Kiyo says softly.  Then he grins and leans back a little.  “Is that a quarterstaff in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

 

“If we’re lucky no one but you will find out.  But we have to get home first.”

 

_ I’m not leaving them, Shiro.  What if whoever is after me finds them? _

 

_ No, Kiyo.  No. _

 

_ Shiro.  They’re mine.  Anyone after me is gonna realize that in three seconds.  We’re not leaving them. _

 

_ Don’t make this a ‘we’ thing Kiyo.  I had nothing to do with this. _

 

_ But we both know you’re gonna help me anyway.  So let’s save the arguing over how dumb and selfish I’m being for later when we’re all someplace safer, okay? _

 

Shiro growls at him and his fingers tighten almost painfully against Kiyo’s skin.

 

“Fine,” he bites out.

 

“I love you,” Kiyo says softly.

 

“I know.”

 

 

There’s never a good way to prepare anyone to cross.  Even if you know exactly what to expect you can’t prepare yourself until you’ve actually experienced it.  The first time Kiyo had done it he had spent the next fifteen minutes nauseous and patting himself to make sure all his parts were still intact.  His little group of twenty looks nauseous and uncomfortable and confused.  Reasonably so.

 

It’s early summer back home, after all, and the trees around them are so vibrant they’re a little unreal.  Of course there was also the matter of that little pinch where one moment they were in that gym and with a single breath they were scattered in a clearing in the woods.

 

“What.  The fuck.  Just happened?”  Tanaka asks, inches from being face down in a muddy puddle.

 

Kiyo gives Shiro a look and Shiro just shrugs.  The logistics of crossing with twenty-one other people is a little tricky and Kiyo figures they should probably be glad that they all made it in one piece.

 

“Welcome to Maylen,” he announces.

 

The clearing explodes with voices, some angry, some confused, some awed.  Kiyo grins at them all; it was good to be home among the chaos.

 

 

 

Kiyo takes a deep breath and smiles at them all.

 

“So.  As you know my name is Yoshikawa Kiyo.  Here I am known as Prince Kiyo of Maylen.  This is Shiro.  He is my closest and dearest friend, my personal protector, and my soulmate.”  He gestures from the clearing they’re in up towards the palace.  “This is Maylen.  It’s one of the kingdoms in a universe that is, well it’s a little difficult to explain, but it is not your own.  It kind of lays alongside your universe and can be traveled to and interacted with by certain people in this universe.  The thing is, much like with your universe, people still have misunderstandings and wars here and we have just recently in this generation come out of a time of war and as I am in line to reign over Maylen I have taken it upon myself to find a fresh new cabinet of advisers.”  He smiles at them.  “You all.”

 

Chaos breaks out again and Kiyo wonders if this was going to work after all.


	8. no, good sir, fuck you

“So what you’re saying is you expect us all to just drop our lives and, what?  Come play hero for you?”

 

“It’s not like that.”  Kiyo isn’t sure how to talk Sawamura down.  Of all the soulmates in this group Sawamura is the one he’s had the least contact with.  The least experience dealing with.  Sawamura scoffs at him.  “Okay I can see how it looks like that but I just.  I need your help.”

 

Sawamura doesn’t look all that interested in listening but he does sit back down and gesture for Kiyo to keep talking.

 

“You know about soulmates, right?  You have at least listened when I’ve been popping up and talking to you these last few months?  Well it’s not just some mysterious conspiracy theory or whatever.  Soulmates happen because they happen.  We can’t decide that.  Can’t decide who are soulmates or anything along those lines.  But we, and by we I mean my family, can reach into the other worlds and encourage the meetings to happen sooner.  You were all going to meet eventually that was never in doubt.  I just helped you all meet much sooner.”

 

They were always going to meet, he explains.  But some of them were much later.  Some of them weren’t necessarily going to be major players in their soulmate’s lives.  But they’re stronger this way.  They can overcome the harshest obstacles together and not just with their soulmates.  He’s watched them, he’s seen their strengths even if they haven’t and he still knows he made the right choice.

 

He needs people.  People he can trust and that are his people.  People other than just Shiro.  There are people here he can ask for help, people who support him.  But they’re not  _ his _ people.  Their loyalties will alway be first and foremost to his mother.  Which isn’t a bad thing, he explains.  But he needs people in his corner that he can trust, people he can turn to when he needs information or backup.  People who are loyal to him before anyone else in this world.

 

Plus he doesn’t need his mother’s people.  He doesn’t need the soldiers who heal each other after battles.  The ones who steal each other’s pain so they can keep going.  The ones who can move each other even when one has fallen.  He doesn’t need that kind of warrior, that kind of weapon in his arsenal.

 

He needs the sly ones.  The ones who can talk to each other without talking.  The ones who can calm each other’s wild emotions in the middle of a tumultuous meeting.  The ones who can send each other signals through their bonds.  The ones who can sneak past guards.  The ones who can find each other even in the middle of an unknown forest.  The ones who are all but silent and unnervingly observant.

 

He needs a new kind of council for the world he lives in now, the world that’s soon to be his.

 

It’s not the war of his parent’s age.  There are new battles to fight.

 

“I’m not asking you or any of your friends to lay down your lives for me or anything.”

 

“Well that’s good since I don’t particularly feel inclined to do that for you,” Sawamura responds easily.  Kiyo doesn’t have the slightest clue how to read the look on his face.

 

_ Maybe stop dicking around the point and just talk to him? _

 

_ I didn’t ask you, Shiro. _

 

_ Nope but I’m telling you anyway.  Stop being a prince for a bit.  You two have more in common than you think if you would just stop trying to tell him what you think he wants to hear. _

 

Kiyo groans and drops his head onto the table.  What the hell does Shiro expect him to do.  He is a prince.  That’s just who he is.  How is he supposed to just shut it off?  He rolls his head side to side, reveling in the coolness of the tabletop as he tries to think.  It’s a habit from childhood that he worked hard to divest himself of.  But it still slips through time to time when he is exhausted or frustrated to a certain extent.

 

“I just… I need your help.”  Kiyo’s breath fogs the table and disappears a moment later.  Like everything else he’s tried on his own.  There and gone in an instant.  “I don’t know what else to do,” he mutters with a frown.

 

“There you are.”  Sawamura laughs at him.

 

“What?”  Kiyo asks, face still pressed into the table.  “I’ve been here the whole time.”

 

“Nope.  I’ve been listening to the Prince talking since we showed up here.  I wanted to hear all this stuff coming from the weird soulmate obsessed guy that kept showing up when we least expected it.  That guy who gave us a novel worth of research about soulmates and got upset when he was teased about it?  That’s the one I want to listen to.”

 

Kiyo jerks up and stares at Sawamura, who just laughs at him again before stopping and tilting his head a little, eyes going distant.

 

“I know that look,” Kiyo finally says after a few minutes.  “Something big and important going on at the other end of the line?”

 

Sawamura blinks a few times and shakes his head.  “Ai says I should stop teasing you.  Seijuurou says… something I don’t feel like repeating and I’m pretty sure he’s distracted with Tachibana right now.  And Tobio is just… a bubble gum commercial.”

 

“A bubble gum commercial.”

“Yeah it’s a thing that Tobio and I do back and forth sometimes?  We actually used to do something similar before games in high school.  Hum random bits of songs to help us focus.  Only now it occasionally just drives each other a little crazy.”

 

“How have I never thought of using stupid songs?  I usually just recite my bomb components and the names of the stones in my mother’s garden path.”

 

“You’re just like Ai and his flower arrangements.  That’s precious.”

 

 

Sugawara is staring at him, cheeks flushed with anger.

 

It’s like he’s never seen Kiyo before and, to be fair, he doesn’t think that Sugawara has ever seen him quite this serious.  Has never seen him quite so much the prince he really is.

 

“You just expect us all to walk away from our lives?  From our classes and our families and everything, everyone, else?”

 

“Spit it out, Sugawara.  Say what you really want to.”

 

Sugawara takes a deep breath.  “You expect me to just leave Mattsun behind?  Just like that.”

 

“Hasn’t he already left you?”

 

He doesn’t expect the punch to the cheek though he can’t say he’s all that surprised by it.  He keeps Shiro from clawing into the pain and leeching it from him, barely.  Shuts Shiro out completely with an incredibly deep breath in and slow breath out before he opens his eyes and returns Sugawara’s glare.

 

“And whose fault is that?  Who pushed us to be soulmates so soon?  What’s to say we wouldn’t have broken up if you had just left us alone?”

 

“He left you.” Kiyo repeats, not unkindly, but his voice is stern.  “That doesn’t mean I assume you want to leave him behind.  But you’ve said it yourself.  He doesn’t understand.  Soulmates or the bond you have with Takao and Izuki.  It also doesn’t mean you’d never see him again.  Obviously we can go back but sometimes even people who aren’t soulmates find their way here.  Also I’m not asking you to stay indefinitely.  I’m just asking that you stay and help me now.  I need you.  I need all of you and the bonds you share with each other.  Not just as soulmates but as friends.”

 

Sugawara is pissed but he listens to Kiyo’s explanations, as rambling at they are.  He rubs at the band on his pinkies gently.

 

 

“You don’t need people,” Kageyama says when Kiyo finishes his explanation.  “You need friends.”  He shrugs at the twin looks of surprise he gets from Nitori and Kiyo.  “Well you do,” he defends, shoulders hunching towards his ears.

 

“Tobio,” Yachi coos.  It’s echoed by Nitori.  Kiyo can only watch as they both jump out of their seats at the library table with him to rush and pile into the plush chair with Kageyama.  He wishes that all of his conversations were going this well.

 

 

Kuroo looks on edge.  Suspicious of Kiyo and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

 

Azumane shifts next to Kuroo, their arms pressing together in a silent show of support, and sighs softly.

 

“What about our families?” His attention is on Kiyo and nothing else.  “What happens to all the people we might leave behind?  There are twenty of us with various families and other friends and all that.  Are they just going to think we disappeared?  Do they just forget us?  What?”

 

Kiyo pulls his knee up and sets his chin on it, bracing his foot on his chair seat and wrapping his arm around his leg.  He considers what to tell them.

 

“We can make them forget you if you want.  If you would prefer.”  Kiyo answers carefully and notes that Azumane moves his fingers, almost just a twitch, against the back of Kuroo’s hand.  “Otherwise they’ll just drift away from you.  You know that feeling when you don’t realize how long it’s been since you talked to someone because it never seems like long?  It’s only been a few weeks but if you really think about it, it’s been more like months?  That’s what it will be like.”  Kiyo worries over the next part.  He hasn’t necessarily wanted to say it to any of them but he has anyway.  It was only fair after all.  “And you can go back.  Just, if possible, not right away.  Because if you’re staying, and I hope you will.  If you’re staying I need you to be with me for awhile.  I need.  Well.  I, I just need all of you.”

 

Kiyo meets Azumane’s gaze and then Kuroo’s.

 

“Each and every one of you can help me.  And I have been informed recently that I need all the help I can get.”

 

 

Kiyo watches Nanase sitting on the floor drawing patterns on Aone’s arm.  Watches soothing colors bleeding from his fingertip onto Aone’s skin.

 

“So you’re saying we would have all found each other even if you hadn’t done whatever exactly it is that you did?  Just not when we did?”  Mikoshiba is draped across Tachibana’s lap and dangerously close to putting his head in Yamazaki’s lap.  He raises his head to ask his questions and then drops it onto Yamazaki’s thigh.  Yamazaki makes a disgusted noise but doesn’t push him away.  He looks pained a moment later when Nanase huffs softly and leans to press his back against Yamazaki’s legs.

 

Their friendship confuses him.  But it’s just one more aspect of this entire group that drew them together in the first place.  Even without Kiyo interfering.

 

“Yes.  Some of you might not have found each other for years yet.  But you all would have found your soulmates eventually.”  He gestures to all of them curled up on and around the couch.  “But you are so much stronger together like this.  You’re so much  _ more _ with each other.  If it had been five years from now, ten years even.  Would you still be so close?  Would you be so willing to fold new people into your friendships?  Is it really so bad that I gave you all a little nudge towards each other?”

 

“Hey,” Mikoshiba says gently and sits up.  It’s only then that Kiyo realizes he’s clenching his fists and he takes a deep breath.  “Hey no one here is upset that you did what you did.  We’re all pretty excited that we found each other.  Even if I could do without Daichi’s elevator music sometimes.”

 

Kiyo laughs softly.  “I have been called a lot of things and one of the ones that pops up the most is impulsive.  I just know that I can’t do this alone and no matter how amazing he is if Shiro’s the only one in my corner it’s going to be damn near impossible.”

 

“Talking about me behind my back, Sweet Prince?  How rude.”

 

The others tense a little, like they’re about to jump to attention or something.  Kiyo just uses his free arm to wave lazily behind him.  “Hey Shiro.  I’m just doing what you told me to.  Groveling.  Asking for forgiveness.  Explaining to everyone why I was being a selfish impulsive asshole.  You know.  The usual.”

 

_ I don’t know that I ever told you to grovel.  You being on your knees is something that’s reserved for me you know. _

 

He hopes the red staining his face wasn’t too obvious.  Judging by Mikoshiba’s smirk his hoping is pretty futile.

 

_ Stop being such a creeper. _

 

 

Aomine waves him away as soon as Kiyo steps into the garden.  He’s stretched out on a bench a few steps away, face turned towards Kiyo and cheek pressed into the stone bench.

 

“I’ve heard it all from Makoto and Tetsu already.  Take it from someone who has fucked up in the past.  You can’t take it back.  No matter what you say and no matter how much everyone else says they forgive you it will always be there.  You take it.  You accept it.  You keep going.  Hopefully it doesn’t take you as long to figure that out as it took me.”

 

He wasn’t looking for a pep talk.  But he’ll take whatever he can get at this point.  

 

“Was I wrong?”  The question sneaks out.  It’s one that he hasn’t even dared voice in his own thoughts.

 

Aomine gets to his feet and stretches while he looks around the garden.  Then he shrugs.

 

“Right and wrong are really just how you interpret it.  Talk to Bokuto or Kageyama.  They’re the language people.”

 

“I don’t know how you managed to make that comforting.  But somehow you did.”

 

“I’m just awesome like that.”  Aomine grins and heads out of the garden.

 

“Modest too,” Kiyo murmurs to himself.

 

He’s still not sure what’s going to happen.  If they’re going to stay or go.  If they’ll help him or leave him to his fate.

 

Either way he’s starting to believe that maybe he’ll be okay.

 

Though it will be a hell of a lot more interesting if they stay here with him.

 

 

Takao hits him in the face the moment he steps through the door.  Thankfully, unlike Sugawara, it’s only with a pillow.  It still stings and he stumbles back a step.

“Hello to you too.”

“We don’t really appreciate people hurting Suga,” Izuki states from his spot near the window across the room.

 

“Yeah I got that.”  Kiyo rubs at his nose.  He’s really lucky that it was just a pillow and not a fist.  Having a broken nose once in his life was more than enough.  “Thank you for using a pillow and not something more damaging.”

 

“That being said-” Takao grabs the pillow and tosses it onto the nearby chair, “-we think that staying would be good for Suga.  Despite the way you did things we do appreciate the whole soulmate thing.  Just.  Watch yourself around Suga.  He’s been hurt enough by this that he doesn’t need it rubbed in his face that he lost the guy he’s in love with because of it.”  ‘Because of you’ isn’t said but he hears it loud and clear.

 

“Duly noted.  Good talk.”

 

 

 

Kiyo does not expect Shiro to take to any of them very quickly.  He can be very prickly about new people.  Especially when they are also getting close to Kiyo.  So when he goes searching for Shiro and finds him in the training room he’s surprised to find that he’s not alone.  He’s even more surprised when he sees who Shiro is sparring with.

 

Akaashi spins on his heel and nearly kicks Shiro in the chest.  Shiro blocks it, grabs Akaashi’s ankle, and uses Akaashi’s own momentum to spin him the rest of the way away and send him stumbling towards the wall.  Tanaka is sitting not far away with a smile on his face, absently rubbing at a cut on his cheek and what is going to be a hell of a bruise in a few hours.

 

“Still haven’t touched me,” Shiro taunts and, oh, okay.  Kiyo knows what this is.  Of all the soulmates it had been Akaashi that Kiyo had been most wary to approach.  He was cool.  He was calculating.  He was tense.  A live wire just waiting for Kiyo to reach out and touch.  Tanaka was probably just the way for Shiro to lure Akaashi in though Tanaka was another one that Kiyo hasn’t been sure how to talk to.  Bokuto and Futakuchi had been easy once Kiyo found them racing each other around the large gardens.  All he had to do is give them a quick recap since they had both already heard a lot of it and answer a few questions.

 

_ Keep staring at me and you might give Akaashi an advantage.  You’re very distracting when you admire my ass. _

 

Kiyo blushes and slips around the edge of the room to join Tanaka.

 

_ Yeah, well.  You have a very distracting ass. _

 

Shiro glances over long enough to wink at him and then he’s back to focusing on Akaashi who ramps up the speed of his attacks.  It’s been awhile since Kiyo’s been able to see anyone spar with Shiro at any decent level.  The newer recruits are too inexperienced to challenge him much and the more seasoned ones are too wary of his status of being the person closest to the Prince.  He never really forgets how strong Shiro is, how skilled he is in hand to hand combat.  But with how quiet things have been lately in terms of fighting it’s a delicious treat to see it just a few feet away.

 

“Does Akaashi fight with weapons?”  He murmurs to Tanaka.  His moves and his stance aren’t quite right for missing a weapon that he’s used to.  But they don’t really fit weaponless hand to hand combat.

 

Tanaka shrugs.  “Honestly,” he murmurs back, eyes glued to the two sparring nearby, “I didn’t even realize Akaashi fought at all other than the punch he threw at Kuroo a few months back.  Always figured he was more of a calm collected let’s talk things over sort of person.  I’ve learned so much about so many people ‘cause of this whole soulmate thing.  Did you know this would happen?”

 

“I always hoped you all would continue to grow together after meeting but, no, I didn’t know it would happen.  You all could have just as easily parted ways and gone back to your old lives.  The only real difference would have been knowing who your soulmate was.  The effects would have faded in time until you didn’t really even register them anymore and eventually the whole thing probably would have faded from your minds like a forgotten dream.”

 

Tanaka is staring at him with wide eyes.  “That’s actually kind of frightening.”

 

“Yeah.  I grew up with it.  Soulmates aren’t a rarity here.  We’re taught about them and how to use the effects to our advantages.  The day I turned 19 I woke up and knew it was Shiro and there was never any going back.  I knew that nudging you all along was a risk.  It could have just pushed you apart in the end.  But I needed you all.  I still need you all.  I need you all because of who you are now, who you might be in a few months, who you used to be.  It scared the life out of me when all the rumors started and the spotlight turned onto you all.  Then I wasn’t sure if you all would pull through but I hoped and prayed that you would.  I never wanted or expected you all to have to go through so much crap, truly.”

 

“It didn’t exactly help that I, as his primary source of reason and comfort, was stuck here behind a wall of static and pins and needles pain.”

 

Kiyo startles at Shiro’s voice just a few steps away and it’s only then he and Tanaka notice that the other two have stopped sparring.

 

“I apologized for that.  Profusely.  And it’s not like it was any more pleasant for me.”  Kiyo knows he’s pouting.  But it usually works with Shiro.

 

Akaashi narrows his eyes and studies Kiyo, searching for something that Kiyo has no idea if he has.  Finally Akaashi rolls his shoulders and tilts his head.

 

“Do princes spar?”

 

“Me?”

 

“Is there another prince around here?”

 

_ Oh man he has balls.  I like him Kiyo. _

 

_ Down, Shiro. _

 

If it’s been a long time since anyone has willingly, and skillfully, sparred with Shiro then it’s been something like a lifetime since anyone has dared try Kiyo.  Just being a prince quickly set him apart from the others.  Being Shiro’s friend pretty much cut off any other potential challengers; if they wouldn’t fight Shiro no way were they going to try Kiyo.

 

“Oh I spar,” Kiyo finally answers as he gets to his feet.  He peels his jacket off and leaves it on the ground next to Tanaka.  “But be warned, I’m not as patient a teacher as Shiro is.”

 

It’s messy.  Kiyo may be the more polished, experienced fighter but Akaashi has instincts that keep Kiyo on his toes.  They don’t really fight dirty but it’s close.  Kiyo has to take a half a breath to shut Shiro out of his mind, to shut out the concern over what they’re doing and if they’ll hurt themselves.  The fact that Akaashi was sparring Shiro just a few minutes ago and still has as much energy and power as he does to spar with Kiyo is amazing.  There’s rage in Akaashi’s eyes, in the lines of his body, but instead of making him sloppy like it does for most people Kiyo has ever fought it seems to make him sharper.  Each blow is more precise than the last and by the time they’re grappling on the floor, dust and dirt clouding the air, Kiyo is sure he can count each hit that Akaashi landed, and is sure he’ll have a patchwork of bruises to try and keep Shiro from leeching away from him.

 

The words of their conversation are hands connecting with skin.  Sentences punctuated with sharp breaths and pained grunts.  Akaashi throws Tanaka a glare once when he tries to stop them after a particularly vicious strike from Kiyo.  Kiyo jabs his finger back at the floor when Shiro moves to stand and end it after Akaashi splits his lip.

 

He feels each moment of frustration that Akaashi has for him, for soulmates, for the way their world, their family, their friends treated them.

 

He knows Akaashi feels each moment of fear that Kiyo had, and still has, for them, for himself, for his own world, for everything that led him to his choices.

 

Akaashi swings at him.  Kiyo dodges.

 

They both lose their balance and stumble to the dirt.

 

They’re both on their backs, heads inches from each other, when he finally lets Shiro ease back in.  Tanaka steps over to Akaashi’s side and offers him a hand up.  Kiyo lifts an arm and flops it towards Shiro.

 

_ Too tired to move. _

 

_ That’s your own damn fault I should leave you in the dirt. _

 

“There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for my friends,” Akaashi declares without looking back as Tanaka helps him to the door.  “Don’t forget that and we’ll be fine.”

 

“I think I just figured out which one scares me the most,” Kiyo says when Shiro crouches down next to him.

 

“I haven’t seen you fight that hard in a long time.  Especially without resorting to explosives of some kind.  I also haven’t seen you come so close to getting your ass kicked by someone who isn’t me in a long time.  Forgot how satisfying that was.”

 

“Is that any way to talk to your prince?”  Kiyo whines.

 

“It’s the only way to talk to you, Sweet Prince, and not inflate your ego.  Now come on.  Get yourself up off the floor and I’ll carry your royal butt to your room so you can lick your wounds in peace."

 

“I’d rather you lick them for me.”

 

Their laughter rings out through the palace as Shiro hauls Kiyo back to his rooms.


	9. settling in

“I think it might be time for me to pass you the Emotions Baton,” Kiyo says.

 

Daiki isn’t sure if Emotions Baton is actually capitalized but in his head it is.  And he wants nothing to do with it.  At all.

 

“I swear if you try to put that thing in my hands I will shove it so far up your ass it will come out your nose.”

 

“Well that’s rude.”

 

“I’m a rude person.”

 

Kiyo waves lazily in Daiki’s direction like he’s dismissing him.  Daiki doesn’t miss that fact that he uses that damned baton to do it.

 

“You forget, Aomine.  I know you.  I knew you before you even found your soulmate.”

 

“Is that supposed to be a threat or something?”

 

Kiyo sighs and rubs at his forehead.  It’s a reaction Daiki is used to seeing when people try to talk to him.  Normally it refreshes him like a nice cool glass of water.  But coming from Kiyo it isn’t nearly as entertaining for some reason.

 

“It’s supposed to be a reminder,” Kiyo says tiredly.  “For both of us, really.”  He stares out the window but Daiki is pretty sure he isn’t seeing anything that’s actually out there.

 

“A reminder of what?”  Daiki finally asks when it’s obvious Kiyo isn’t going to continue without prompting.

 

Kiyo looks at him like he had forgotten Daiki was still there.

 

“A reminder of why I chose each of you.  Even if you frustrate me sometimes.”

 

“Yeah, well, you frustrate us sometimes too.  Especially when you try to pull your enigmatic Royal Prince card on us.  So it goes both ways.”

 

Kiyo lets out a startled laugh and smiles at Daiki.  “I suppose it does.”

 

 

 

He’s still not used to this place.  He knows there’s really nothing to worry about, that he’s just as safe here as he was back home, but something keeps him on edge.  He’s not sure if it’s something that’s missing or something extra that he just can’t put his finger on or if it’s just the knowledge that for all this looks just like his world it is, in fact, not his world.  Maybe that’s it.  Maybe he’s just on edge because he’s in a different world but it looks and smells and sounds so much like the one he’s known all his life that his brain just can’t process it.  He’s starting to think that he’d be more at ease if there was some blatantly obvious difference.  If the sky was purple or the grass was blue or the cats that roamed the palace made a different noise instead of the expected mewling.

 

Ryuu steps into the garden and freezes when he hears a voice mumbling nearby.

“No.  No.”  For a moment he thinks someone is in trouble.  But then he takes another step forward and only sees Kiyo curled up on a nearby bench, asleep.  “No,” Kiyo says again, eyes still firmly shut and one hand tucked under his cheek.  The other twitches and hangs in the air inches from the grass.  “No.  Softly smack the hippo.  Not like that.”

 

Ryuu wants to know what is going on in Kiyo’s head.  He’s also a little concerned.

 

“No.  That’s too hard.  Gently.  Smack the hippo gently.  Like this.”

 

Kiyo’s hand twitches again and yeah, nope.  Ryuu has changed his mind and he does not want any part of this dream.

 

“That.  That is disturbing,” he says quietly as he backs out of the garden.  Maybe he’ll go see if Takao is in the kitchen or something instead.  He’s had enough fresh air for today.  Though he supposes at least the Prince napping in the garden talking about smacking hippos is enough of an odd thing to his brain that he feels a touch less unsettled.

 

Takao gives Ryuu a wave when he wanders into the kitchen and then turns his attention back to whatever he’s been working on.  Izuki is sitting on the counter next to him apparently content to watch and Ryuu debates leaving the two alone until Izuki gestures for Ryuu to join him on the counter.

 

“My favorite part about making these,” Takao says as Ryuu hops up onto the counter, “is that when you add the peanut butter, it sounds like a bad jerking off sound effect from a BLCD.”

 

“Listen to a lot of those do you?”  Izuki asks.  He leans past Takao to scoop a glob of peanut butter out of the jar and pop it into his mouth.

 

“Maybe I star in them,” Takao replies.  “You never know.”

 

Ryuu isn’t entirely sure he wants any part of this discussion anymore than he wanted to be around for Kiyo’s weird dream in the garden.  Did everyone suddenly get an extra dose of weirdness today?  Was it something they ate?  Was it something in the air?

 

He hops back down off the counter and decides he’ll go find someone else.  Maybe Kageyama.  Kageyama seems like a nice, safe choice.

 

 

 

This was the only temple he’s ever needed: Shiro kneeling beside him under the heavy boughs of the apple trees near the river, his dark hair on fire in the setting sun, eyes closed, reverent.  There’s a solemn promise in the way Shiro’s fingers close over Kiyo’s wrist.  

 

Devout, dedicated, loyal.  They’re all words Kiyo has heard used to describe Shiro.  Kiyo’s heart beats slowly as he studies the lines of Shiro’s face more studiously than any text he’s ever been given. 

 

Steadfast, sincere, unwavering.  Here, cut off from everything but the river in front of them, the trees around them, and their own steady breaths as the cool shadows creep in Kiyo sees Shiro differently - though he’s always seen Shiro differently than the others- but here, in this hushed corner of the world…   

 

Luminescent, prismatic, ethereal.  Shiro opens his eyes and meets Kiyo’s gaze without a moment’s hesitation.  He scolds Kiyo but Kiyo doesn’t have an ounce of remorse.  What better place to worship, after all, than a temple?

 

 

Just as the setting sun sinks out of sight a loud splashing reaches them and Kiyo looks over to see Bokuto knee deep in the river waving excitedly at them.

 

“Damn it,” Kiyo hisses.

 

“Duty calls, Sweet Prince.”  Shiro rises to his feet and holds out his hand for Kiyo.  Dusk is rapidly giving way to full night but in spite of that Shiro’s smile is burnt into Kiyo’s mind like the midday sun against his eyes.  His heart drums out a steady beat as he slides his hand into Shiro’s.

 

—

 

Maylen needs to rebuild from the ground up and Kiyo is determined to be the one to lay down that new foundation.  A new generation, a new way of thinking that, unfortunately, sitll comes with new battles and obstacles.  But it’s not a battle determined by brute force, by the ever shifting front lines and bloodshed anymore.  It’s a battle of wits and secrecy and stealth.  A battle of diplomacy and alliances that can turn even bloodier than the battlefields they’ve barely left behind in an instant with a simple miscommunication.  It’s a battle that’s no less difficult to balance in the end.

 

He doesn’t need some team comprised of the best fighters and killers out there.  Though, he tells them with a kind of wicked grin that sends a shiver down more than one spine, he’s not opposed to anyone, including himself, getting their hands a little dirty if need be.  Keiji is pretty sure there’s a story to tell in the look the Prince sends Shiro and he’s also sure he’s not quite ready to hear it just yet.  

 

Suga rolls his shoulders beside Keiji and shifts minutely.  Keiji knows that look.  Suga is still itching for a fight though Keiji hasn’t quite figured out with who.  Nor has he figured out if he wants to pick up that particular bag of cats and try to deal with it.  Though he can say the thought of sparring with Suga gets his blood racing in a way that it hasn’t in awhile.  Kuroko stares at him from across the room, bruises still visible on his cheek from Keiji’s fight with Yoshikawa, and narrows his eyes.  Keiji briefly wonders how pissed his little shadowy soulmate would be to wake up with hickeys littering his torso one morning, not that Keiji has anyone to give him any, and then Yoshikawa is rolling out a map on the table and drawing their attention to it.

 

Keiji listens patiently for the first half hour or so while the Prince explains the kingdoms that border Maylen on two sides - Woblary to the north and Kasna Stron to the west - and their current leaders, the large sea to the south and their current dealings with the bands of the people living in the mountains to the east.  Then he listens with less patience for the next forty minutes as the topic switches into the war of Yoshikawa’s parents’ and grandparents’ generations that had finally come to an end just a few years ago and the repercussions they were still dealing with and the kind of things thry wanted to continue using and the things he wanted to change.  Once it’s been almost two hours and Yoshikawa isn’t showing any signs of stopping Keiji’s had enough.

 

“Okay we understand.  Long detailed history that you’re probably trying to condense for our sakes and we’ll probably need this info later.  But I’m sorry.  What’s the point you’re trying to make?  Why are we here?”

 

Yoshikawa’s mouth is slightly ajar like he’s never been interrupted before and Keiji can see Shiro rubbing at his nose to hide the grin on his face.

 

“If this is some kind of recruitment monologue you’re giving us way too much history class and nowhere near enough History Channel.”

 

“I’m not sure they have History Channel in this world Akaashi.  I don’t even think they have television,” Bokuto whispers loudly from his spot across the table between Kageyama and Tanaka.  He can see Yoshikawa take a deep breath out of the corner of his eye and he thinks he hears Shiro clearing his throat in an attempt to stifle laughter.

 

“Fair point.”  Keiji points at Yoshikawa.  “And your point is?”

 

“I need you to be my eyes and ears and flies on walls and shadows in the corners.  I need you to get me information so I can rebuild this kingdom, maybe this whole world, better than it was.  I need people I can trust.”  Kageyama clears his throat and looks at Yoshikawa, who bites his lip and sighs.  “Friends I can trust,” he amends.

 

“I told you I’m not going to play hero for you or lay down my life for you.”  Sawamura leans against the table, chin in his hand, and stares at Yoshikawa.

 

“I don’t expect any of you to do anything dangerous.  I just need you to go out and listen to what people say.  See how they’re doing things.  Help me find out where the lines don’t match up anymore.  Because I know they don’t.  I just don’t have the people I can trust to bring me back the truth.”

 

“You don’t trust the people you have now?”  Sawamura leans back into his seat.  “That seems odd.”

 

“I trust them.  They’ve never done anything to give me any doubt in their abilities.  Or their loyalties.”  Yoshikawa’s gaze skips around the table.

“But they’re not loyal to you.”  It’s not a question and they all look at Aomine in surprise.  “Are they, Little Prince?”

 

Yoshikawa and Aomine stare at each other in a long silence until the Prince finally blinks and looks down to the maps on the table.

 

“No.  They’re my mother’s people and are, first and foremost, loyal to her.  Anything they find gets told to her first and I’m beginning to think I’m getting slightly watered down versions of some accounts.”

 

“And some are just flat out lies,” Shiro breaks in for the first time since they all sat down.  “Which doesn’t help us any.  It’s understandable, in its own way.  We’re young, inexperienced.  We just ended a war.  One rumor could tear down everything our parents have worked so hard for.  The Queen wants to protect that and the best way she knows how is by keeping things neutral and safe and quiet.  But if we-” he gestures to the entire table, “-don’t know what’s really being talked about in other places or even sometimes just how it’s being talked about then we’ll never be able to defend ourselves from anything or, preferably, cut it off before it even gets anywhere.  We don’t want assassins creeping through the night taking out targets.  We want friends walking into palaces and shops and ballrooms by the light of day who will tell us when they’re told a rumor or overhear a strange conversation.  We want people who can walk into a Records Hall and come out with two stories that just don’t look right.”

 

Yoshikawa smiles sweetly at Shiro and Keiji winces.  Sometimes their overt looks and touches just make him deeply uncomfortable.  He looks up to see Kuroko staring at him and he knows why, just like he knows why the intimate looks make him twitchy, but he is perfectly content to leave it the hell alone and he’d appreciate Kuroko doing the same thing.  Which he tries to convey with a blank look and slight eyebrow motion.  Kuroko blinks and smiles at him.

 

“And it’s hard to find people who are unbiased right now,” Yoshikawa picks up Shiro’s train of thought.  That’s a little weird sometimes too.  “Hard to find someone who doesn’t have an opinion one way or the other about, more or less, everything in this world.  Where one of you might overhear a conversation about how the bread rolls aren’t sweet enough and relay it back just like that someone here would hear that same thing but tell us that they’re low on sugar for the dough because the shop in the market charges too much.  But they think that because the shop in the market has always charged too much and they know it.”

 

“But,” Shiro glances at Yoshikawa and then at the group around the table, “you are also people who really have no bias when it comes to Kiyo.  You’ve never heard a rumor about him that is or isn’t true.  But at the same time you already know him better than most of the other people who have known him his whole life.  Because you’ve seen this Kiyo.”  He gestures to Yoshikawa’s messy hair - from running his hands through it so often the last couple hours - and his disheveled clothes - from when he and Tanaka had gotten into a shoving match when they both tried to come in the door at the same time - and the maps and notes tossed onto the table in a messy pile and covered with nearly indecipherable handwriting.  “And not just the Prince that the rest of our world knows him to be.  In fact,” Shiro grins at Keiji and then Sawamura.  “You all seem especially insistent that you  _ don’t _ talk to or interact with the Prince, but with Kiyo.  And that’s exactly what we want and need right now.”

 

“So you want people who will mouth off to him?”  Aomine laughs and props his feet on the table.  “Hell I’m in.”

 

Yoshikawa shakes his head but Keiji can see the touch of a smile on his face before he looks around at all of them again.

 

“I know you weren’t exactly given a huge choice in coming here.  But it was important to get out then because anyone from our world would have only needed to get a glimpse at you all to know I had a hand in your meeting and even with the war over there are still some unsavory people out there.  If you choose to go back I’ll make sure you’re safe there.  If you choose to stay I’ll make sure the people you have back there are safe.  I’ll make sure you always have a place to go back to, an anchor in your world.  I want you to stay.  But I want you to choose to stay.  And if you don’t I won’t hold it against you and I won’t do anything to take away what you have now with your soulmates and friendships.”

 

“Impulsive,” Mikoshiba says softly.  “You’re impulsive.”  He clarifies when they all look at him and some of them nod in agreement, Keiji included, because Yoshikawa is impulsive.  “You said the other day ‘I have been called a lot of things and one of the ones that pops up the most is impulsive.’  And you are.  But we know it because we’ve experienced it.  We know you’re smart.  We know you’re a little weird.  We know you’re really a much bigger nervous wreck then you let on.  We know you, Kiyo.”

 

Sawamura sighs and rubs at his temple.  “I get it already,” he snaps and glares at Mikoshiba.  “We don’t have to be heroes to help out someone we know.  Besides it’s not like the world’s gonna end if I don’t get a job as publisher or something.”

 

Keiji turns and meets Suga’s eyes.  Suga stares back at him for a moment - a long moment where Keiji isn’t sure what he sees swimming in the depth of Suga’s eyes - and then he shrugs and voices his agreement as well.

 

Kiyo collapses into the empty chair at the head of the table in relief and Shiro reaches out to ruffle his hair.

 

In the end fourteen of them stay.  Yachi can’t bear to leave her mother behind and Bokuto, as much as he likes Maylen and Kiyo, can’t leave Yachi alone.  Aone is too fond of his own world to leave it and Futakuchi refuses to leave his best friend to fend for himself.  Nanase, after a long talk with Tachibana, decides to make a choice for himself and stay with Aone.  There’s a lot here said without words that Kiyo doesn’t understand the history or depth of.  But that’s just the way those two apparently are.  Yamazaki returns to keep an eye on Mikoshiba’s younger brother, Momo, who they have chosen to be their anchor between worlds.  But now Kiyo has fourteen more people at his side and he falls asleep just a little easier that night.


	10. things found and things left behind

“I can’t believe you actually thought I’d leave Knittens behind.”

 

“I can’t believe you actually used Daichi’s name for your corn snake.”

 

Asahi’s eyes widen and he slowly turns to stare at Suga.  It kind of reminds Daichi of that possessed kid in the creepy movie he had watched a couple weeks ago.

 

“I can’t believe you had a crush on Coach Ukai.”

 

Daichi can’t keep his face from curling and crinkling like he just bit into a lemon.  He doesn’t even try.

 

“Oh please tell me this was in our third year,” he says with a kind of horrified hope lacing his voice.

 

“One: that was uncalled for and was supposed to be our secret,” Suga hisses.  “Two: I still can’t believe that your first pet after leaving home was a corn snake.  Why not a normal pet like a cat or a bird or, hell, a hermit crab?”

 

Asahi nods sagely and turns to Daichi.  “Oh yeah.  Suga wanted me to get crabs when I left home did I ever tell you that?”

 

“I hate you,” Suga chokes out.

 

“Can’t we all just get along?”

 

“No one asked you, Mikoshiba,” Suga snaps almost sweetly.  Daichi isn’t entirely sure how he manages that.  But it’s Suga.  So Daichi chooses not to question it.

 

“Don’t make me go get Ai.”

 

“I will beat you over the head with a cucumber.  I swear.”

 

“No need to get violent, Sugawara,” Seijuurou  teases and Daichi almost wishes that he had a camera because telling Suga not to get violent when he’s already in a violent mood is just asking for trouble.  He tries to tell Seijuurou this over their bond but Seijuurou just smiles at him and waves away his concern.  Daichi just has to hope he knows what he’s doing.

 

 

Daichi is pretty sure that despite thinking he knew what he was doing Seijuurou is missing some important facts about Suga.  He’s now, thanks to the bond, realized that Seijuurou is trying to get Suga to let out some of his anger because they can all see just how pissed off Suga is about the whole Matsukawa thing - and how lowkey pissed off he is at Kiyo for what he said about it all.  Seijuurou has just never been on the receiving end of one of Suga’s punches.  Or, at least, he hasn’t until now.  He also apparently didn’t realize just how deep a trench Suga’s frustrations have dug in him and filled to the brim.  Daichi doesn’t think it’s just the Matsukawa situation but he hasn’t been able to get anything out of Suga lately to know for sure.

 

Daichi cringes in sympathy when Suga lands a punch straight to Seijuurou’s gut.  For all his size and big talk, Seijuurou is kind of a shitty fighter.  At first Daichi thought that he was just being nice to Suga, letting him land a few blows to get his frustration out.  But nope.  Seijuurou just sucks at fighting.

 

_ I may have miscalculated. _  Seijuurou’s voice fills Daichi’s head and he wonders if the others can hear it too.  If Ai and Tobio are wondering just what the hell is going on.

 

_ Fancy way of saying you screwed up. _  Ai responds and that answers Daichi’s question.   _ Tobio and I are in the library do we need to come down? _

 

_ No no.  He dug this grave.  Let him stay in it a bit. _  Daichi grins when Seijuurou shoots him a betrayed look.   _ Suga is not a person to take lightly, even if he is half your size. _

 

_ Thank you for the advice.  You are too kind. _

 

“Should I be this happy to see Suga beating the shit out of someone?”  Takao asks Daichi as he leans against the wall next to him.  “I mean violence isn’t really a good solution but,” he sighs, “man it is good to see him so lively.”  Daichi catches a glimpse of the colored band on Takao’s finger when he moves to push his hair out of his face.

 

“What does the magic ring say about it?”

 

Takao pauses, confused, and then laughs when he follows Daichi’s eyes.

 

“Oh.  Well.”  He studies the ring for a minute and then smiles softly.  “He’s pissed.  But kind of a melancholy pissed.  If that makes sense.  Shun and I have been trying to figure out what has him so moody but since the Matsukawa thing it’s been a lot harder to get a read on his colors.  I don’t know if we need more practice or if he’s doing something to deliberately mess with them.”

 

“Can you do that?”  

 

Takao shrugs.  “Do any of us really know what we can do yet?”

 

A body hits the ground of the training room and Daichi winces at the string of curses filling his head.  Guess he knows who won that round.

 

When he steps up to them Suga is breathing hard, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, and Daichi admits that Takao was right: it is good to see Suga so lively.  Seijuurou groans from the floor and waves at Daichi to help him up.

 

“I’m not taking back anything I said just now,” Seijuurou says quietly.  Daichi looks at Suga in confusion but Suga’s eyes are locked on Seijuurou.  “I meant every word.  Think about it.”

 

Suga flushes.  A moment later he spins on his heel and marches out of the training room.

 

“What did you say to him?”  Daichi gives into his curiosity and asks as he’s helping Seijuurou up the stone steps that lead from the training room towards the palace.  Seijuurou waits until they reach the top to answer.

 

“Some things he didn’t want to hear.  And some others that he needed to.”  Seijuurou winces.  “Why didn’t you ever tell me that your best friend can hit so hard?”

 

“Consider it a test or something.  Now you’re someone he trusts.”

 

“He only trusts people he can beat up?”

 

“He trusts people who call him on his bullshit.”

 

 

 

They watch Sugawara march away from the training room, head held high and fists clenched at his sides.

 

“He kind of reminds me of moonshine,” Kiyo says.

 

Shiro stares at him.  “He reminds you of illegal whiskey?”

 

“I was going more for otherworldly with an interesting silvery light that seems to shine when he’s around.  But I suppose he’s also an acquired taste that occasionally burns when you consume it.”  Kiyo shakes his head fondly and laughs at Shiro, leaning across him to watch and see where Sugawara disappears to.

 

Now that’s moonshine, Shiro thinks.  Foolishness and quick laughter and sharp eyes that pin him to the spot.  Cool calculation that leaves him little room to hide in the sharp shadows.

 

“Is this going to work, Shiro?”  Kiyo asks him in a rare show of nerves.  “Did I make the wrong choice?”

 

“You made an impulsive choice and I still wish you would have talked with me first,” Shiro gently chastises him, and not for the first time since they got back.  “But in the end I don’t know if it’s right or wrong.  I don’t think anyone will ever be able to tell you that for sure.  The important thing is that you don’t let it drag you down.  Do what you wanted to do in the first place.  Make them your people.”

 

“Not my people.  My friends.  That’s what Kageyama told me,” he clarifies when Shiro looks at him in surprise.  “I don’t need people.  I need friends.”

 

“Then make them your friends.”

 

“You think I can?  Oh!”  Kiyo spots Kuroo down by the pond and his eyes light up.  He hops to his feet and calls out a greeting as he hurries down to talk to him.

 

“I think you’re already well on your way, Sweet Prince,” Shiro says softly.

 

—

 

Haru stares down at the slick surface under his fingers.  It’s a little slimy but that’s to be expected.  It is a turtle shell after all.

 

“Thank you for helping me pack up Aristoddle’s things.”  Aone’s voice has stopped surprising Haru but it still makes him blink hard sometimes when he’s not expecting it.  Aone spends so much time in silence that sometimes Haru forgets he’s even there.  Which is impressive considering the other man’s size.  What’s even more impressive is the gentle way he carefully secures stuff in his turtle’s habitat for transport and explains in a soft voice what he’s doing and why.

 

Aristoddle slowly climbs into his shallow pool and begins gnawing on the rim of it as Aone empties his food dish and takes it into the kitchen to rinse it out.  Haru continues watching the turtle as he makes his way along the pool until he’s settled in the deepest part of it.  He feels a little like the turtle is judging him.  Or maybe daring him.  Aone comes back, still explaining what he’s doing, and Haru wonders briefly if turtles can feel possessive.  Is that what that look is?  Some triumphant possessive look Aristoddle is giving Haru as Aone picks him up gently and coos softly at him before setting him carefully into his carrier so he can empty his pool and pack it away as well.

 

Haru shakes his head.  He really needs to get more sleep.

 

It had been an impulsive decision to ask Aone to take Makoto’s room.  But at the same time it wasn’t.  Haru still wasn’t sure exactly why he asked and he knew even less why Aone had agreed.  But he was glad that if his best friend was leaving at least his soulmate was still here.

 

 

“Don’t worry, Makoto.  I’ll keep an eye on everything.”  Momo pats Makoto on the arm and grins at him.

 

“That’s not as comforting as you think it is,” Makoto mutters as Momo hurries off to talk to Ai.  “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

 

A strong arm wraps around his waist and Seijuurou pulls him backwards until his back hits Seijuurou’s chest.

 

“It’ll be fine, babe.  You know Momo can be really serious and dependable.  He just likes to act like an airhead.”

 

“I know.  But being away from my family because of university and being away because of being soulmates in a different world are kind of two totally different things.  I just.  What if they manage to forget me?  What if I forget them?  This isn’t just some summer vacation to the beach, Sei.  This… this is huge.”

 

“Hey, Makoto.  Hey look at me.”  Seijuurou nudges him until he turns around and then he presses their foreheads together.  “I won’t let you forget them and Momo won’t let them forget you.  I doubt anything could get your family to forget you honestly.  I know nothing could make me forget you.”  Seijuurou gives him the goofy grin that always makes Makoto smile in return.

 

Someone tugs on his sleeve and Makoto drags his gaze away from Seijuurou’s face and spots Momo standing next to him.

 

There’s a look on Momo’s face that Makoto can’t remember ever seeing before but it reminds him of the way Seijuurou used to look during swim meets and joint practices.  It’s all hard lines and determination and a seriousness that’s a bit unnerving to see on him.

 

“Hey,” Momo says softly.  “Please try not to worry.  I promised that I’ll keep an eye on them for you, that I’ll keep an eye on everyone.  And I will.  Shiro explained it to me a bit.  You guys need an anchor of sorts.  A place to always be able to come back to.  I can be that.  And I’d do it even if you didn’t ask me to.  So try to trust me, okay?  I promise I won’t let you down.”  Momo gives him a confident grin and then whips around when Asahi calls out for him.

 

“Okay who was that and what did he do with your little brother?”  Momo starts to skip over a duffel bag, catches his foot in the strap, and goes stumbling into Asahi’s chest in a whirlwind of flailing arms and surprised shouts.  “Never mind there he is.  I was scared for a moment.”

 

“I told you,” Seijuurou whispers in his ear.  “Just depend on us Mikoshiba’s sometimes.  We won’t let you down.”

 

Sousuke and Futakuchi were moving into the apartment in place of Azumane and Ai to help keep an eye on Momo.  Though part of him wonders if they suggestion was inspired by Yoshikawa’s wish to keep them all together and fairly easily accessible seeing as how he had been the one to suggest that Haru and Aone room together when Haru and Makoto had been hesitating and debating about splitting up.

 

Sousuke sets his duffel bag on the floor and adjusts the bundle in his arms carefully.  Thankfully most of the rest of them are too busy chattering at each other to pay him much mind.  Plus it’s not like he’s the only one with odd baggage.  Hell Azumane has a giant worn stuffed bear leaning against the bag at his feet.  He also appears to have a small snake in his hair and Sousuke is happy to stay far away from that.  Nanase gives him a curious look when he notes what Sousuke is holding on to and he resigns himself to his fate then and there.  Because he knows that look and it means that he will not have peace until Nanase gets what he wants and maybe not even then.

 

“It’s a rabbit,” he bites out as soon as Nanase is close enough to hear him.  “Yes it’s mine.  Yes he’s coming with.”

 

Nanase peers at the rabbit and tilts his head a little before looking into Sousuke’s eyes.

 

“What’s his name.”

 

“Paul.”

 

“Oh.”  Nanase looks like he’s waiting for something else and Sousuke sighs.

 

“Paul Bunyun,” he admits and Nanase’s eyes light up.

 

“Please don’t make me regret my association with you any more than I already do.”

 

“Please,” Nanase scoffs, “I am a delight and you know it.”

 

“I know no such thing.  Don’t you have a puddle to go drool about or something?”

 

—

 

It doesn’t take long for Seijuurou and Ai to find a place to fit in.  The two of them had always worked well together and under Shiro’s tutelage it’s not long before they’re seen as his next in command.  It helps that Seijuurou works his ass off, determined not get beat by Suga every single time they fight.  Just most of the time it seems.

 

Not that Kiyo really needs them to be his bodyguards.  Considering anyone wanting to get at him would have to get through Akaashi and Suga first and those two are more than a force to be reckoned with.  Seijuurou watches them spar one time and vows that he will never take them both on at the same time the way Shiro does from time to time.  He likes all of his limbs and internal organs right where they’re supposed to be.  It’s also a little frightening to him that both Suga and Akaashi slide into their roles as Kiyo’s diplomatic advisers so well.  Though he supposes it makes sense; if he hadn’t seen first hand how hard they can throw a punch he’d never suspect they were more than pretty faces and prettier words.

 

They all seem to find places in Maylen, in Kiyo’s palace, without much trouble.  Izuki and Takao spend most of their time in the kitchens.  Kuroko does whatever shadowy things Kiyo asks him to - Seijuurou would rather stay out of Kuroko’s way than ask what he’s up to if he’s being honest with himself.  Azumane, Kuroo, and Daichi spend a lot of time traveling through the villages and towns and sending back reports of the people there.  Makoto spends a lot of time in the library with Tobio and, surprisingly, Aomine.  Apparently they’re all very good at research and compiling history and putting together the facts and snippets they’re sent from the other into detailed reports.

 

It’s not that he didn’t think it was possible for them to fit in here.  It’s more that he didn’t think they’d fit in so easily.  Like there had already been places here for all of them.

 

He thinks that maybe, just maybe, Kiyo had known what he was doing after all.

 

—

 

“I don’t think he even understands what he does to me.”  Asahi can’t keep his eyes off Kuroo.  He hasn’t been able to for awhile now.  Kuroo has always caught Asahi’s attention, even back in high school though he never dared to approach him at all back then.  Even if he had known back then that Kuroo was a giant dork that was more interested in science puns than just about anything else he wouldn’t have been able to talk to him.

 

Daichi looks from Asahi to Kuroo and back again before groaning loudly.

 

“Oh not you too.  Romance and fluffy feelings are a no with me.  Unless you’re gonna talk about the feeling you get in your dick when you look at him I’m not really gonna be able to input much here.”

 

“Daichi!”

 

“Asahi.”  Daichi elbows him in the side.  “You know I don’t do romance or anything like that.  The way he makes your heart flutter like a butterfly or whatever really isn’t something I get.

 

“You don’t have to get it to listen to me.”

 

“Alright.  Talk to me.  Regale me with tales of Kuroo’s endearing smile or wonderful sense of humor or something.”

 

“Well,” Asahi teases, “I was going to tell you about how much I like his butt.  But if you’re going to be so salty about it then I will tell you about his smile.  Thanks for the suggestion.”

 

The groan Daichi lets out makes Asahi laugh and Kuroo looks over at them with curiosity.

 

“We’re just talking about the attractiveness of your butt,” Daichi calls out.  “Don’t worry.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Kuroo calls back as Asahi sputters and blushes.  “If you’re gonna lie at least make it believable.”

 

Kuroo jogs away towards the other side of the garden.  Daichi watches him go and then stares at Asahi.

 

“Is he serious?”

 

“And therein lies my problem.  No matter what I try to do I don’t think he gets that I’m actually interested in him.  He thinks I’m joking or being nice.”

 

 

 

“What do you mean you’re not attractive what the fuck?”  Aomine looks up from the book in his lap and stares at Tetsurou.  “Even I can see you’re hot in a messy just rolled out of bed way.”  He shrugs when Tetsurou gapes at him.  “It’s not really my thing but not much is to be honest.”

 

“I’m not.  I’m not attractive.”

 

“You’re in denial.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“In denial?  Then you accept that you’re attractive?”

 

“No.  I’m not attractive.”

 

“So you’re in denial.”

 

“No!”

 

“You’re confusing me.”  Aomine yawns and turns his attention back to his book.

 

“I’m confusing myself,” Tetsurou admits.

 

Aomine grins like he just won the game.  A game Tetsurou didn’t even know they were playing.

 

“I get that you’re in a weird place about yourself.  Azumane talks to Daichi and then it gets to Mikoshiba and Makoto and you do realize there are very few secrets kept with the connections we all have,” he explains when Tetsurou gives him a panicked look.  It doesn’t really make Tetsurou feel any calmer and Aomine makes a disgusted noise.  “It’s not like any of us care.  Or, well, you know.  It is what it is.  It doesn’t matter to any of us I guess?”

 

“I think what Aomine is trying to say is that none of us are judging you for anything.”

 

“Fuck you, Tetsu,” Aomine half shouts, eyes widening and book sliding to the floor when Kuroko appears out of thin air.  “Shit why do you do that still?”

 

“Because startling you makes me smile.”

 

Tetsurou slips out the door unseen.

 

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it.  He likes Asahi, after all, and wonders what kind of person his soulmate would be interested in.  Not him, he’s sure.  Not him with his can’t be tamed bed head and his stupid laugh and, oh yeah, the fact that until a couple months ago he hadn’t even seriously considered actually being with another guy.  Well he had been serious, he had known for a long while that dating girls wasn’t for him after all, but he never would have actually had the courage to do it.  Akaashi’s punch that day may have knocked some sense into him.  There’s just a roiling in his stomach, a surety that no matter how big of a crush he may be developing on his soulmate, Asahi has no reason to feel like that about him and plenty to avoid him.  And his less than stellar looks is just one of the reasons.

 

Asahi - he thinks as he wanders through Kiyo’s palace and is thankful once again that he doesn’t have any kind of mind reading bond because hello embarrassing thoughts - is amazing.  Wonderful.  As close to perfect as Tetsurou thinks a person can get and still be human.  In fact he’s not entirely convinced that Asahi is fully human.  He’s just too much.

 

He’s physically appealing.  If you like tall guys with great arm muscles and amazing thighs and soft brown eyes and forest nymph brown hair that practically comes down to an ass that, well, Tetsurou has had more than one night since this soulmate thing came to a head where he woke up from a dream that featured that ass.

 

Tetsurou’s so far inside his own thoughts he doesn’t even notice the wall of flesh in front of him until he slams into it.

 

To be fair Mikoshiba doesn’t really make any effort to move out of the way.

 

“You okay?”  He sounds sincere and apologetic enough but there’s a teasing glint to his tone that immediately sets Tetsurou on edge.

 

“Yeah.  Sorry.”

 

Mikoshiba stares at him.

 

He stares at Mikoshiba.

 

“Ok then I’m gonna just-”

 

“Do me a favor?”

 

“What?”

 

“A favor?  Shiro was telling me that there’s something weird about this closet but I can’t figure out what.  I feel like he’s making fun of me or playing some dumb joke.  If I shut you in it for a minute can you see if you can find anything?  Cause I sure as hell couldn’t.”

 

Tetsurou eyes the empty hallway past Mikoshiba.  It’s not like he was planning on doing much of anything today anyway other than possibly returning to his room and pining over his dumb, gorgeous, out of his league soulmate.

 

“Whatever.”  He shrugs and gestures for Mikoshiba to open the door.  Some days, he had discovered not long after meeting the man, it was easier to just go along with his ideas.  Even if they led to him stepping into a dark closet and Mikoshiba shutting the door with a triumphant grin.

 

“That was so much easier than I thought.  Daichi owes me lunch.”

 

Tetsurou really probably should have seen this coming.  It was the most high school cliche thing ever.  So of course Mikoshiba had done it.

 

“Let me guess.  Sawamura’s gonna drag Asahi here with some excuse and you’re gonna shove us in here til we work things out.”

 

“Kind of.”  Mikoshiba’s voice sounds way too smug and Tetsurou kind of wishes he had the guts to challenge Mikoshiba in the training room.  But he’s seen Mikoshiba sparring with Shiro and he rather likes all his parts exactly where they are with a minimum of bruising.  “Pretty sure Azumane’s coming of his own volition.  He wants to talk to you, you know.”

 

“We talk all the time.”

 

“Kuroo.”  Tetsurou gulps at Mikoshiba’s tone.  At the protective, tender way Mikoshiba says his name like Tetsurou is someone special, someone worth something.  “Do you not like Azumane?  Like a ‘could fall in love with him someday’ kind of like?  Because if you seriously don’t have feelings for him we can call it off right now.”

 

“I just don’t understand how someone like him could feel like that about me,” Tetsurou admits finally.

 

“Could you explain why you like him if you were asked?  You don’t have to.  Just.  Could you?”

 

Tetsurou thinks about all the wonderful things about Asahi and smiles.  “Yeah.”

 

“He’s said the same thing about you.  How about giving him the chance to tell you some of them?  And actually listen to him.”  Mikoshiba taps on the door a few times like he’s considering his words before speaking.  “He’s serious about you.  The compliments he gives you, the things he says even when you’re not around.  Just give him a chance?  Believe me when I say that none of us want to see anyone else unhappy, especially in our group.  Even Aomine isn’t completely horrible.”

 

Tetsurou can’t help but start laughing at the sour note in Mikoshiba’s voice and he wishes he had been outside the closet just to see the look that was no doubt on his face.  Mikoshiba and Aomine’s little quarrel is something that Tetsurou isn’t sure they’ll ever work through.  But it doesn’t make them any weaker or make them care any less for each other in the end, somehow.  Tetsurou is pretty sure that while Aomine wouldn’t go to the ends of the world or throw himself into the line of fire for Mikoshiba he’d at least trudge along fairly willingly and maybe shove Mikoshiba out of the way of danger should it occur.

 

“So just, yeah.  Just hear him out.  I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think that something good would come of it for both of you.”

 

“I’ll listen.”  Tetsurou leans against the door for a moment.  “I can’t promise to believe.  But I’ll listen.”

 

He hears muffled voices coming from the hallway and takes a step back just as the door swings open and Asahi’s figure fills the doorway.

 

There’s a look of confusion on Asahi’s face when he notes the closet but when he turns to say something to whoever is behind him he suddenly lurches forward and he and Tetsurou stumble into the shelves lining the back wall.

 

“Have fun,” Sawamura’s voice fills the closet.

 

“We’ll be back later,” Mikoshiba promises as the door swings shut.  “Remember what I said Kuroo.”

 

Asahi pulls himself away from Tetsurou and tries to put as much space as possible between them.  Tetsurou doesn’t think it’s because he wants to exactly.  Especially not with the way Asahi’s fingers linger against Tetsurou’s arms for just a moment longer than necessary when he finally moves to lean against the door.  It makes Asahi even more endearing and Tetsurou can feel another piece of his defense against the man crumbling.

 

“Do I even want to know what it was that Mikoshiba said?”

 

“That I should hear you out.”  Tetsurou takes a steadying breath.  “Especially because apparently we have a lot of the same feelings for each other?  Even though I don’t get how anyone could have the kind of feelings for me that I have for you.”

 

“Do you look at me and want to shake me for being dumb but want to kiss me at the same time?”

 

“I don’t think that I ever thought you were being dumb.”

 

“But you wanna kiss me?”

 

“Sometimes, yeah,” Tetsurou admits.

 

Asahi is leaning against the door, as far from Tetsurou as he can be in the small closet, and suddenly it feels like he’s lightyears away.  Like he’s slipping from Tetsurou’s grasp.  Like that ticking, blinking, mocking stretch of time is going to sweep him away from Tetsurou any moment.

 

Tetsurou reaches out and tugs at Asahi’s shirt sleeve.

 

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.  A few months ago I was still pretending that all my parents’ expectations were my goals too and that I was going to settle down with some cute little girl after university and live happily ever after.  Now I’m locked in a closet with my soulmate, literally in a different world, and I want to be here, I swear I do.  I just don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing?”

 

Asahi shakes his sleeve out of Tetsurou’s grasp and links their fingers together instead.  The warm palm pressing against his makes him blush and when Asahi gently pulls him closer he follows without hesitation.

 

“Here’s the thing, Kuroo.  None of us really know what we’re doing,” Asahi whispers conspiratorially.  “But even if I don’t know what I’m doing, I kind of always wanna do it with you by my side.  I like your sense of humor.  I like your ridiculous laugh.  I like your hair, even if I don’t understand how it looks so good on you.  I like how smart you are and the fact you never make anyone feel bad for not being as smart as you.  I like your smile and the way you look when you and Akaashi argue over semantics.  I like how you make me feel.  I like you.  Even if you can’t understand why.  But isn’t that kind of the beauty of it?  That you can like someone even if they can’t understand it?”

 

“So you really like me?”

 

Asahi laughs and pulls Tetsurou even closer until he gives in and just leans against Asahi’s broad chest.

 

“Kuroo I liked you in high school even though I couldn’t find the nerve to even talk to you.  I liked you before we found out we were soulmates and I like you even more now that I’ve got to spend so much time with you.  Yes.  I like you.  In a romantic sense where I want to go on dates with you and hold your hand and all that.”

 

“I like you too,” Tetsurou whispers.

 

He listens to the steady beat of Asahi’s heart in his chest.  Weighs Asahi’s words with what’s inside his own head.  Feels Asahi’s fingers still tangled with his and Asahi’s other hand resting lightly on his waist.  Asahi feels like a life raft in the sea of his weird life.  Like some kind of safe place for Tetsurou to curl into in this dark closet.  When the world doesn’t end after his quiet confession Tetsurou grins slowly and pulls away until he can just make out Asahi’s face in the darkness.

 

“Would you have been this brave and talkative had we been locked in a regular room instead of this tiny dark closet?”

 

“Probably not.”  Asahi’s cheeks flush and he laughs nervously.

 

“Me either,” Tetsurou admits.  Then he presses his cheek back against Asahi’s chest and lets himself drift in the darkness.  Maybe if the world was still functioning as close to normal as possible when they got out later he could think about the way Asahi’s breath hitched at his confession and the way his fingers tightened against Tetsurou’s skin like he was making sure he wasn’t dreaming.


	11. it goes like this

Kiyo stares down at the long table in front of him, advisers and councilmen and women filling the chairs around it, with a look of studious concentration on his face.  The perfect picture of a prince listening to the wise words of the men and women around him, preparing to take over his role as dutiful leader some day.  He can feel the weight of his light crown on his head, so slight most days that he doesn’t even realize it’s there but sometimes it seems heavier than a boulder, as he tilts his head in contemplation.  To anyone around him he appears to be deep in thought, most likely concentrating on what the adviser nearest him is talking about.

 

Honestly it’s mindless drivel that he’s heard a dozen times before.  But he had been gone for months and this is one of his ways of making reparations.  By showing that he is serious about this and, in turn, getting to show that his handpicked advisers will be serious about it too.  That they’re all listening and paying attention and taking notes and nodding in the right places and concentrating on the task at hand even if the three of them - Suga, Akaashi, and himself - all know how pointless it all is.

 

Kiyo isn’t sure what Akaashi or Suga are thinking about during all of this.  But what he’s really concentrating on is how much he wishes he could get Shiro to bend him over this very table.  It had been a long few months and he misses the closeness they had and the stress relief of it all.

 

_ Why do you have to let your mind wander there all the time? _

 

_ Because you’re hot and I like having sex with you? _

 

He can feel Shiro’s frustration through their bond.  It’s not all frustration at Kiyo’s antics, though, which is both good and bad.

 

He nods seriously when prompted to by his adviser and goes back to imagining Shiro bending him over the table.  They would start right here.  In his seat.  He’d pull Shiro to him until Shiro was between him and the table, that amazing ass of his resting against the edge of it, pull and pull until Shiro filled his vision and blocked out the rest of the world.  Then he’d bury his face in Shiro’s stomach and breath him in.  Let his very presence consume Kiyo, just like it should.

 

Suga coughs delicately and Kiyo blinks a few times.  He tilts his head like he’s listening closely to the next adviser speaking.  The man has a voice like rusty gears and it makes Kiyo want to cringe.  That’s the seat he’d shove Shiro into before climbing onto his lap and kissing him until neither of them could breathe.

 

_ And which seat do I get to sit in when you drop to your knees for me? _

 

Kiyo disguises his surprised inhale as a cough and takes a delicate sip of water from his nearby glass.  The rest of the advisers don’t even blink at it but Akaashi gives him a cool look that tells him he’s not fooling Akaashi in the slightest.

 

_ Mine.  Of course. _  He shoots back. _  Right here at the head of the table.  I’d go to my knees for you and you alone. _

 

_ Before I bend you over said table. _

 

_ Yes. _

 

He can feel his pulse starting to jump just imagining Shiro’s face when he’d finally pull Kiyo away from between his legs and guide him to stand.  He’d sit in Kiyo’s seat and stare up at him and Kiyo would almost drop to his knees again just for the satisfaction of spending more time worshiping Shiro in this most intimate way.  But then Shiro would smile, not the rakish grin that had half the kingdom ready to fall to their knees for him, but the wicked one that was only for Kiyo.  Kiyo can practically feel the way Shiro’s fingers would trace his hipbones and linger on the scar just above his navel.  Can feel the ghost of his breath against Kiyo’s skin as he presses a kiss to that very spot before spinning him around and pushing until Kiyo bends himself over the table, shivering when the cool wood meets his bare skin.  Then Shiro would lean forward, breath warm and damp against the pale curve of Kiyo’s ass and-

 

_ Well if you can imagine it so well I don’t see why you need me there at all.  Besides that’s not what I’d do at all. _

 

A new set of images start to bleed into his mind and he has to concentrate on not showing anything to the people around him because in Shiro’s mind Kiyo is spread out on the table like a meal and Shiro is happily consuming him.  Shiro kisses his way up Kiyo’s stomach, nips gently just under his ribs, moves up to suck a dark mark into Kiyo’s collarbone.  In his mind he sees his knees being spread and one landing right where, in the real world, a stack of papers is sitting in between his current tactician and Suga.  Shiro makes his way from Kiyo’s knee to his thigh with his fingers and then his lips.  In the version of things that’s playing in his head courtesy of Shiro, Kiyo lets out a long whine that ends in a sudden gasp when Shiro’s mouth closes around him.

 

His tactical adviser says something and Kiyo responds appropriately, even though he forgets what he’s saying practically as he’s saying it.  When the next person starts speaking Kiyo turns to listen to them.

 

_ You know in my version…  _ He tells Shiro.   _ I beg. _ __   
  


A stack of books crashes to the floor in the next room and everyone startles at the noise except Kiyo.  Who simply grins for a few seconds before schooling his expression back into careful neutrality.  Both of his new advisers catch the grin and roll their eyes at him before the rest of the table turns back to the task at hand, which he still thinks is boring him to death with pointless facts.

 

 

 

“You know.”  Kiyo’s voice is breathy and rough and he feels Shiro shudder against him, Shiro’s weight pinning him to the tabletop.  “You know,” he repeats, “you’re the only person who has ever made me beg for anything.”  He reaches up to run his fingers along the silver bracelet on Shiro’s wrist, a perfect replica of his own crown.  “In fact.  You’re the only person I’ve ever allowed to make me beg for anything.”

 

_ You’re mine in a way you’re no one else’s.  Is that what you’re trying to tell me? _

 

Shiro pulls himself up enough to run the back of his fingers along Kiyo’s cheek.  His smile is cast silver in the moonlight and Kiyo wants to burn it into his memories forever.  Everything about this moment: the way Shiro’s hair is messy from Kiyo’s fingers, the red marks along his throat that might bloom darker in a few hours, the moonlight painting them both with silver touches, the gentleness in Shiro’s touch, the love in his eyes.

 

_ For all that I am a prince and I belong to my people… the only person who I give permission to  _ **_possess_ ** _ me is you. _

 

Shiro leans down and whispers against his lips.  “I know.  And I’m humbled every day because of that.  Because of you.”

 

—

 

The collar of his dress shirt is far too tight on his throat and Kiyo is sure now, more than ever, that his tailor is some sort of hired killer out for his blood.  Or at least determined to make him pass out or wither away due to extreme discomfort.  The marks on his neck from the night before have nothing to with it.  he wishes he could proudly display them to the world.  Maybe one day he could.  Maybe one day diplomacy and passion could be shown at the same table.

 

“The party from Kasna Stron will be here shortly,” Kiyo’s diplomatic adviser states before retreating to the door and shutting it tightly.  Today is sadly not that day.  Kiyo doesn’t hear the lock turn but he does hear the familiar clink of the royal guards armor settling as two armed guards shift into place in front of the door.

 

“I don’t see why we need so much security.  It’s not like they’d be ballsy enough to assassinate me here or something.”

 

“Maybe if you weren’t so hellbent on misbehaving all the time like a spoiled prince then they wouldn’t feel the need for the guards.”

 

“I did not ask for your opinion, Akaashi,” Kiyo replies without even looking to his right, where Akaashi is seated with a journal of some kind opened to a blank page.

 

“That’s not going to stop him,” Suga says from his left.  “At least not when there’s no one around.  We’ll be good and keep our mouths shut when your royal proceedings start.”

 

Kiyo groans and slumps in his chair a little.  “Okay you I get-” he points at Suga, then turns to Akaashi, “-but what is  _ your _ beef with me?”

 

“You’re too pretty, too confident, too full of yourself, too spoiled, and too arrogant.”  Kiyo blinks at Akaashi’s rapid response.  Akaashi stares back at him.  It’s been a long time since someone other than Shiro gave him such an unwavering stare and for a moment Kiyo feels like Akaashi is seeing into him, diving inside him and digging into the soulbond he shares with Shiro.  Then Akaashi’s gaze shutters.  “Would you like me to continue?”

 

Kiyo is spared from answering - thankfully because he really doesn’t know if he wants to hear Akaashi’s words right now or not - by the sound of armor approaching the doors.  Not a large group.  He tilts his head to hear better.  Maybe four guards in armor.  Three people without armor or at least very lightly armored.  He can sense Shiro at the edges of his mind.  Not incredibly far away but still too far to reach him should something disastrous happen.  Which is part of the reason Suga and Akaashi are here with him.  Out of everyone in the group they had proven to be two of the best fighters.  Plus they were both smart and scholarly looking enough that until they were pushed into a fight you would have no way of knowing just how skilled they were.

 

Perfect for playing the role of his new diplomatic advisers in training in this new world that Kiyo was coming into power in.

 

The doors swing open and the entourage from Kasna Stron sweeps in.

 

His attention is drawn to the two figures at the head of the group.  They are without a doubt related; similar facial features, the same blond hair and lanky build.  He hasn’t been given too many details about this meeting - yet another thing that makes his duty twice as hard in the end - so all he knows is that one of them is the prince from Kasna Stron and the other is his cousin.  His eyes linger on a familiar looking crown resting in the fluffy blond hair of the slightly shorter male.  It’s an almost exact replica of the one on his own head, just a much darker coloring, and he has a moment to wonder if it’s intentional before they reach the last few steps to the table and he finally rises.

 

Akaashi and Suga wait a beat for him to fully stand and they rise in sync.  He’s rather proud of how quickly they’ve picked up on his preferred methods and displays.

 

His current diplomatic adviser bows slightly and clears his throat.

 

“I present to you, your fiance, Prince Akira.”

 

He doesn’t flinch at the unexpected announcement.  Doesn’t look away from the other prince’s gaze.  He can see Suga and Akaashi shift minutely at his side but neither of them speak and he’s sure their expressions are almost as neutral as his own is.

 

Fiance.  This was not what he had expected from a meeting with Kasna Stron’s prince.  This.  This is the exact thing he’s been trying to avoid.  This giant unknown suddenly being dropped into his lap.  Just what has his mother been planning and when was she going to tell him?  

 

His mind might be an endless whirling of  _ what the fuck _ and _ holy fucking hell _ but he’s trained most of his life to keep his emotions away and this is one time when he thinks that not even Aomine could make fun of him for keeping his Prince Kiyo mask on.

 

_ Kiyo what the hell is going on?   _

 

He wants to respond to Shiro but right now it’s taking more focus than he’d like to keep the bundle of nerves and waves of confused thoughts from overwhelming him.

 

Kiyo smiles, bows his head slightly, holds his hands out wide.  The picture perfect prince.

 

“Welcome to Maylen, Prince Akira.  I hope you are as pleased to be here as we are to have you.”

 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Prince Kiyo.”  His voice is softer than Kiyo expects it to be.  But commanding enough in the way he makes you listen closely to hear him properly.  “I am looking forward to being here.”  Akira finally smiles back and bows his head.  Just as picture perfect as Kiyo had been.

 

_ KIYO. _

 

Akira blinks a few times and tilts his head slightly, like he’s heard a commotion outside, eyes drifting up to meet Kiyo’s questioningly.

 

Kiyo can’t think.  He can’t remember what comes next.  For all his years and years of training this is one thing he never imagined.  Not the arranged marriage, there was always a chance of that on the horizon somewhere.  But having it just sprung on him like this.  For all that his mother kept her plans close to her chest this was unusual for her and he just can’t focus on what to do now.

 

He has a vague sense of Suga smiling at the group across the table and suggesting that perhaps they would like to rest a bit before any further serious discussions happen.

 

“The weather has been rather warm lately,” he says in a charming tone.  “I’m sure that an hour to get settled and refreshed a little would be welcome.  There is much to discuss, after all, and we don’t want anyone stuck with a travel weary mind.”

 

Suga ushers them out and politely informs the diplomatic adviser that the group from Kasna Stron were to be shown to their rooms and then, in a hushed tone that makes Kiyo smile, he tells the man that he and Akaashi would be with Kiyo and would see to him and his comfort and that under no circumstances were they to be disturbed by anyone, even the Queen herself, or the man would answer to Suga.

 

The adviser’s eyes go wide and he nods once before showing himself out of the room.

 

Kiyo waits until he hears the door click shut and the guards outside moving further away to the next set of doors to the meeting room and then he collapses into his chair.

 

“What.  The.  Fuck.”  Akaashi stares at him.  “Since when do you have a fiance?”

 

“I don’t know.  I mean the chance of an arranged marriage has always been there.  Much as it was with my younger sister.”  Kiyo buries his face in his hands.  “This.  This was not something I expected.  This is not the way my mother does things.  She wouldn’t spring something like this on me without warning.”

 

“Except,” Suga says softly as he returns to his place at Kiyo’s side.  “She just did.”

 

 

Shiro steps in a few minutes later, Nitori on his heels.  He takes in Suga and Akaashi’s serious faces and sees Kiyo slumped in his chair with his head in his hands.

“So.  What happened?”

 

“Apparently,” Kiyo mumbles into his palms, “I’m getting married.”

 

“Congratulations.”  Shiro looks around again, searching for the problem.  “And?”

 

“And I’m getting married.  I just met my fiance, apparently.  This is a little overwhelming okay?”

 

Shiro pulls Kiyo’s chair away from the table so he can kneel in front of him.

 

“What’s going on, Sweet Prince?  We always knew this was a possibility.  An arranged marriage isn’t all that shocking is it?”

 

“Not really,” Kiyo sighs.

 

“So why are you so freaked out?”  Shiro plucks the crown from Kiyo’s head and sets it on the table so he can run his hands through Kiyo’s hair soothingly.

 

“Honestly I’m not sure.  He was introduced as my fiance and then I welcomed him and he thanked me and then it was like my mind just stopped working.”

 

Nitori starts to say something and then stops himself with a frown.

 

“Go ahead, Nitori.  Speak your mind,” Kiyo says as he leans into Shiro’s touch.

 

“Well.  You heard each other’s voices.  And then everything shifted.”

 

Kiyo laughs sharply.  “No.”  He pulls back to meet Shiro’s eyes.  “No?”

 

Shiro shrugs.  “I don’t know.

 

Kiyo hops to his feet and grabs his crown from the table.  “This.  This is.  No.  I can’t deal with this.  I have to meet with them in less than an hour.  I can’t even think about anything else.  No.”  He strides from the room, leaving the others to look at each other in confusion and worry.

 

“Shiro?”  Akaashi sounds concerned and Shiro shakes his head.

 

“Honestly I don’t know.  I’m getting a lot from him but some of it is closed off in a way that Kiyo never is with me.  It’s just.  Weird.”  He scrubs at his face and finally stands.  “Just.  Keep an eye on him for me, okay?”  He gestures for Nitori to follow him and they leave Akaashi and Suga to their thoughts.

 

—

 

“Oaky,” Suga mutters.  Keiji cautiously glances at the scowl on his face and then turns his attention back to the group settling into their seats around the table.  “He smells fake but oaky.”

 

“What does fake smell like?”  Nitori asks quietly from Suga’s other side once they’ve all seated themselves and the meeting is getting started.

 

“Dust.  Salt.  Broken dreams and bitterness.  A little bit of dead leaves and stale air.  Him.”  Suga inclines his head towards Himura and Keiji bites the inside of his lip to keep his laughter from creeping out.

 

It’s not that they dislike Prince Akira’s cousin.  There’s just something about him that sets Suga’s nerves on edges and Keiji agrees.  This meeting, for instance.  Of course it’s expected not to want to bother the princes with every single detail and meeting of a kingdom that’s not technically theirs to rule yet but Keiji is pretty sure this discussion might be one that Kiyo would be very interested to have been invited to.  It’s not necessarily suspicious but at the same time it is odd that the only reason he, Suga, and Nitori are here is because they happened to overhear the current diplomatic adviser talking to the Queen about it and the combined force of Suga and Nitori’s puppy dog look was too hard for anyone to say no to.

 

Most of the meeting is nothing more than talks about the alliance and how everyone involved is looking forward to a peaceful future.  Especially now that the princes will be able to settle down and start a life together.

 

“I know it can’t have been easy having your son off collecting a new inner circle, Your Majesty,” Himura says kindly, “but now that he’s found people who are such a good match for him surely you’ll be able to pin him down at last and take some of the burden from your shoulders.”

 

Keiji bristles at an insult he can’t quite interpret in those words, especially when Himura’s eyes slide over himself and Suga in a lazily calculating manner.

 

There’s more talks of the alliance and agreements on the length of time they want to give the princes to get to know each other before the ceremony and then Himura is thanking the Queen for her hospitality and offering to combine their families and kingdoms through this marriage and thanking her for her support in everything they’ve been working towards.

 

Then it’s just Himura, Suga, and Keiji himself in the meeting room and Himura is smiling at them.  Keiji refuses to smile back.

 

“So.  You’re Prince Kiyo’s two closest advisers, are you not?”  

 

Suga nods.  “I would suppose we are.”

 

“What kind of person am I leaving my cousin with?  Surely not some sort of cruel man.”  Keiji stares blankly at Himura.  “I mean.  What is he like?  Is he kind?  Is he harsh?  Is he childish?  Uncouth?  Unforgiving?  Anything?”

 

“Prince Kiyo is a person who cares deeply for his people and his kingdom and as such is willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the safety of both,” Suga finally says.  Himura’s eyes flash and Keiji swallows back a feeling of dread.

 

“Is that so?”  Himura asks thoughtfully.  “And what of you two?  As his closest advisers how do you feel about it?  About him?  About the kingdom?”

 

“We trust Prince Kiyo to make decisions with the best interests of the kingdom and the subjects within it at heart.  We support him and his decisions wholly.  And how is Prince Akira in terms of these topics?  Is he willing to do what it takes to ensure the safety and happiness of his subjects?”  Keiji raises an eyebrow when Himura looks at him.  Himura’s eyes flash in interest again when he meets Keiji’s gaze.

 

“Oh he is quite willing to do whatever it takes to keep his kingdom safe.  I’m sure you’ll see that in due time.  Now if you’ll excuse me I, unfortunately, can’t delay too long.  I must return and see to the ruling of Kasna Stron until further notice.”

 

Suga steps to Keiji’s side as the door closes and leaves them alone in the room.  “He gives me the creeps,” Suga mutters.

 

“I feel like he just inspected me down to my bones and planned some disgusting fate for me.”  Keiji shudders.  “I feel like I need a shower.”


	12. beauty and the moonlight

There is a memory that Akira has that he holds on to dearly, saved high up on a shelf in his mind that he climbs up onto dusty creaky mind ladders and stretches his fingers out for and drags out on the really bad days.  This?  This is a really bad day.

 

He hadn’t expected to be greeted with open arms and vibrant laughter and good cheer.  Hibiki had told him about the people here.  Had warned him that they wouldn’t like him, wouldn’t trust him, and that he, in return, shouldn’t trust them.  Especially his beloved fiance.  There was something tricky about him, Hibiki had said, so Akira had to keep his guard up since Hibiki wouldn’t be there to protect him. 

 

So he doesn’t expect anything all that warm and friendly.  But he also doesn’t expect to feel quite so alone and cut off from everything.

 

Since Hibiki left Akira has only heard from him twice.  Once when he was about halfway back and then a quick message stating he had returned home to Kasna Stron and would be working on filling the emptiness of the throne in Akira’s absence.

 

It’s been almost a month since then and his wedding is less than a month away.  He’s pretty sure he’s spoken directly to Prince Kiyo maybe a dozen times since he was left here.  Best of all?  The real cherry on top?  Today marks five years since his mother’s death - the day he almost died - and he’s in a foreign kingdom with no family, no friends, no allies; nothing but the wooden wind chimes outside his window clacking in the breeze and the smell of rain heavy in the air to keep him company.

 

He slips into the kitchens, staying out of the way of the few members of Kiyo’s apparent inner circle that are gathered around the island near the ovens, and grabs whatever is closest that is easy to take with him.  He swears he can feel their heavy gazes on him but when he glances over they’re all deep in conversation about something.  None of them pay him any attention when he slips out of the side door and into the gardens.

 

He debates sitting on one of the benches and enjoying the gardens - they are quite lovely and obviously well cared for - but something itches in his mind, some half remembered memory that doesn’t quite even feel like his own, and he starts following paths at random, not knowing where they would lead him and honestly not really even caring.  If he somehow gets off the palace’s property he’s sure a guard will find him and drag him back.  Eventually his wandering leads him to a river and he crosses it, feet finding small stepping stones just under the surface of the water unerringly - like he’s done this a hundred times before - and then he’s tucked away in the cool shadows of the apple trees lining the river.  He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, sinking to his knees.

 

The memory slides off the shelf in his mind and drops into his waiting hands.

 

 

_ His mother is waiting for him at the top of the stairs.  The stern look on her face is at odds with the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at him.  Her arms are filled with books and blankets and jars and balls of twine and other things he pilfered and tucked away. _

 

_ “Did you have something in mind when you started taking things?  Or was this just a random theft spree.”  Her voice demanded respect, she was a queen after all, but it was the curve of her smile at the end that made him answer. _

 

_ “I didn’t steal it.  How can I steal stuff that’s ours to begin with?” _

 

_ His mother balances everything in one arm so she can take his hand when he reaches the top of the steps.  Her fingers are warm and gentle when he slips his hand into hers and he can practically smell the sunshine that’s coming through the high windows, tinging her bronze hair gold. _

 

_ “Lesson of the day, my little Moonbeam,” she says.  “Just because you’re the prince and this is our kingdom doesn’t mean that everything is yours for the taking.” _

 

_ “But you’re the queen and I’m the prince and it is all ours.”  Confusion laces his voice and he frowns at her.  She laughs gently at him and tugs him down the hallway. _

_ “You’re right.  But it’s not ours in the way that we can just take things.”  He thinks on this while she leads him to the library to return the books.  “It’s ours in the way that we need to keep it safe.”  She helps him put the blankets back in the closets they belong in.  “We need to protect it.”  The jars and twine and other little things find their homes again while he muses about her words. _

 

_ “Oh,” he finally says when it hits him.  They’re sitting on the balcony that overlooks his mother’s small garden, soaking in the afternoon sun.  “Like Apple?”  He loves the old cat that hangs around the palace and he feeds him any chance he can and always lets him inside when it storms. _

 

_ The proud look she gives him before she pulls him up into her lap is warmer than the sun they’re sitting in. _

 

_ “Just like Apple.” _

 

_ The warmth.  The sun.  The garden curled delicately below them.  His mother’s arms wrapped around him. _

 

_ This was the memory that would keep him company for years to come.  The memory of the safest place of his childhood that no blankets, no books filled with favorite stories, no number of twinkling lights in jars all strung up with twine could ever hope to replicate. _

 

 

Akira opens his eyes to the darkened night.  The apple trees around him seem to whisper in the breeze and he shivers at the dampness hanging in the cool air.  He’s not sure what pulled him from his memory.  If it was a sound or a scent or that niggling feeling of someone else hovering around him that he’s been getting since being left behind here.  Movement across the water catches his eye.

 

Kiyo is standing on the other side, staring down at the water, nearly motionless.  Before Akira can decide whether to reveal himself or not Shiro is strolling up and hooking his arm around Kiyo’s waist.  He can’t hear what they say but there is laughter in their tones.  He shifts slowly and draws his knees up to his chest as he watches them.  After a few minutes of talking Kiyo gestures to the dark little hollow that Akira is sitting in and then they’re both making their way across the stones.

 

Akira’s heart stops for what feels like the eternity it takes for them to cross.  He wants to run but the trees around him are dense and it would be madness to run through them in the dark.  Kiyo’s foot hits the dirt on the bank and Akira’s heart pounds back into action.  He’s trapped.

 

Shiro stumbles as he steps onto the dirt and Kiyo’s laughter at him cuts off when he spots Akira sitting in the darkness.

 

A buzz of emotions is under his skin, voices he can almost hear fill his ears, a confusion he can’t pin down makes him dizzy, he can’t quite breathe the way he’s supposed to be able to.

 

Shiro waves for Kiyo to stay back while he kneels in front of Akira, holding his gaze.

 

“Hey,” he says softly, gently.  Like Akira is a panicked animal.  “It’s okay.”  It’s fitting.  He is panicked and in their eyes he’s sure the prince of Kasna Stron is little more than a mere animal.

 

He misses his mother.  Her warmth and kindness and levelheadedness.  Her strength and softness and sparkling eyes.  He misses her garden and her books and being her little Moonbeam.

 

Shiro doesn’t touch him, but his hands hover, like he wants to reach out and drag Akira forward.  Or maybe shake some sense into him.  Akira wonders what’s stopping him.  If it’s the fact that he’s Akira or the fact that he’s just not  _ Kiyo _ .

 

He’s not sure which reason is the one making his stomach churn.

 

Shiro’s head tilts slightly and his eyes flicker to Kiyo for the briefest moment and something shatters.  Akira thinks it’s maybe something in his chest and he pushes himself to his feet.  

 

He’ll never have what they do.  He knows this, has gone over it time and time again with Hibiki and their advisers.  This is a world filled with soulmates and bonds and unique talents and he is just an unbound prince, lost and very far from home.  The river looks like a shimmering blanket reflecting the stars above.  

 

“My apologies for intruding,” he manages to say before stumbling across the water.

 

He returns to the palace in less of a daze than he left it in, ignoring the soft calls from Kiyo and Shiro to come back.  He’s surprised to find someone waiting outside his rooms, and tenses until he realizes it’s Tanaka sitting on the floor and leaning against the door in the darkness.

 

Of all the members of Kiyo’s circle Tanaka has been the only one to really approach Akira on his own.  The rest are an interesting mix of politely distant to downright distrustful.  Which is ridiculous since he’s the one who needs to keep his guard up around them.  He’s the one in a foreign place with no support.  He’s the one filled to the brim with worrisome details from Hibiki about the kind of things that had happened, things the people of Maylen did, during the war.

 

“Tell me,” Tanaka says when Akira reaches him and stares pointedly at the door Tanaka is leaning against, “do princes spar?”

 

The smile on his face makes it feel like an inside joke and Akira’s heart twinges longingly for the details behind that smile.  For the security of inner circles and jokes and knowing looks and familiar contact.  Then he blinks and buries it.  He focuses on keeping his well built walls securely in place.  This isn’t his to have.  This isn’t the place for him to find it.

 

He sighs when he realizes Tanaka doesn’t plan on moving.  “We do if we find someone deserving to spar with.”

 

Tanaka’s laughter is like pebbles bouncing off the glass windows in the walls around him, a siren song enticing him to come outside.  Without Hibiki at his side to remind him of meetings and policies and important tasks and all the other reasons he needs to focus on the task at hand, on surviving his upcoming wedding and the years of a delicately balanced marriage stretching out in front of him, Akira finds that he wants to see what’s out there.  A bubbling curiosity that he’s never really had before is simmering under his skin and he wants to, no needs to, see what’s waiting for him.

 

“Shall we see if I’m deserving?”  Tanaka gets to his feet and rolls his shoulders, giving Akira that inside joke smile.  But this time he can feel the warmth of being inside the circle, of being in on the joke, and he reluctantly smiles back.

 

 

He can’t be sure what unnerves him more: the way Tanaka is grinning like he’s having the best time of his life even with a split lip and blood running slowly down his bicep or the way that despite being bruised, bleeding, and out of breath he can somehow still find the energy and focus to talk.

 

“See I always knew you were more than just a pretty face.”  Tanaka dodges Akira’s kick and returns with one of his own.  Akira has never had the strongest punch or the stamina for long, drawn out fights.  But he has taken more than his share of sparring partners down with his speed and flexibility and the way he uses every moment he can to his advantage.  He uses Tanaka’s momentum against him, flexes his body more than most people can without losing balance or power, twists his limbs in ways that seem almost unreal.

 

Unfortunately Tanaka fights much the same way.  With just a little more muscle in comparison to Akira’s fluid motion.  Just enough of a solid base to withstand Akira’s whip-like kicks and lashing punches.

 

Akira focuses on Tanaka’s moves; they’re both starting to get worn down from the fight and it won’t be long before one of them slips up.  He can feel an irritation under his skin every time Tanaka’s blows land - or almost land - and each time Tanaka opens his mouth to (Akira’s mind wants to say he’s flirting but his common sense tells him it’s just some kind of tactic because he’s nothing anyone would want to flirt with) speak it’s like a gnat buzzing in his ear.

 

Neither of them notice their audience.  Until a bead of sweat rolls into Akira’s eyes before he can blink it away just as his foot hits a patch of dirt on the training room floor and he loses his balance and focus enough that he can’t avoid Tanaka’s knee to his gut.  Then Tanaka has him pinned and is grinning down at him.

 

“Never thought I’d get to have a real life prince all pinned down underneath me like this.”  He winks at Akira.  “Gotta say I kinda like it.”

 

The growl surprises them both and Akira looks over to see Shiro standing just a few steps away, hands clenched into fists as he stares at them.  Kiyo is leaning in the doorway and he looks more amused than anything.  Shiro…well Shiro looks mad and Akira gulps as he pushes Tanaka off of him.  Shiro’s mad at Akira for hurting one of his friends, one of Kiyo’s precious circle, he assumes.  So he makes sure to clearly thank Tanaka for offering to spar with him before he grabs his shoes and slides past Kiyo to make his way back up to the palace.  

 

A feeling of guilt and frustration follows him back to his rooms, though no one tries to stop him or call him back this time.

 

—

 

They’ve been sparring together nearly every day.  Early in the mornings while most of the others are still asleep and Kiyo and his closest advisers are going over their plans for the day.  Neither of them are ashamed of being seen talking or sparring or getting along but Akira has been very cautious about running into Shiro or Kiyo and, honestly, Ryuu can’t blame him any.  The other two were always wearing disapproving scowls when they caught Ryuu and Akira sparring.  Not that either of them wanted to stop.  Hence the early morning sessions.

 

They’ve talked a lot during breakfasts together and breaks when they spar, leaning heavily against each other’s shoulders in the cool morning air.

 

In the last month Ryuu has gotten to know Akira rather well.  He likes the guy.  Likes his sense of humor and the way he tries to hold his tongue but slips up and starts cursing Ryuu when he lands a particularly nasty hit.  He likes how Akira trusts him, how he gives Ryuu the key to his room to wake him up for these sessions.  He likes the way Akira blushes when Ryuu teases and flirts with him - honestly it’s like the guy’s never been flirted with before.  He likes Akira.  He trusts him, even with all the stuff that the others are searching for and digging up in light of this arranged marriage.

 

It’s those little nuggets the other’s have been digging up, and Kiyo’s warnings, and Shiro’s angry stares, that makes Ryuu pause when Akira asks more personal questions about their group and their abilities.

 

“No it’s quite alright I understand.”  Akira rolls his shoulders and settles on the floor next to Ryuu.  “I wouldn’t trust me with that kind of information either if our situations were reversed.  It’s just sometimes it seems like you all are so tightly knit that you’ve surely known each other for ages now, much like Prince Kiyo and his guard Shiro.”

 

It hits Ryuu then, blinding him in the morning sun while they sit on the training room floor and try to catch their breaths: Akira’s just like them.  Just like Ryuu was when he first stumbled into Maylen months ago.  He’s alone in a place that he knows very little about, and in Akira’s case what he does know is tinged with the horror stories of his advisers and guards and soldiers and cousin.  A place that’s far from home where every move he makes is sure to be scrutinized.  Memories of the last month before they were pulled over flood him, feelings of being watched and talked about and gestured at none too subtly, and he swallows the bile rising in his throat.

 

It’s pretty hypocritical of him, of all of them really, to be treating Akira this way just because he’s different than them.

 

In that moment he decides that he’s on Akira’s side, so long as the prince will have him, and he puts even more weight against Akira’s shoulder with a sigh.  Then he starts talking about his friends.  About the ones they left behind.  About how they’re working to build Maylen into a better place, a softer place, as per Kiyo’s vision.  He talks about Kiyo practically stalking them and eager to share knowledge about soulmates with them.  Talks about Shiro working nearly tirelessly with the ones who wanted to learn to fight and protect.

 

Akira lets out a melancholic sigh.  “I wish I could know them the way you do.  I really do.  That vision sounds wonderful, for both kingdoms.  The people sound wonderful as well.”  He smiles at Ryuu.  “Thank you for sharing them with me.  Maybe one day I’ll get to experience it all firsthand.”

 

They hear the kitchen doors slam open at the top of the steps and pull themselves to their feet.

 

“Want me to stop by with lunch?  Or do you want to try the dining room again?  I don’t think Kiyo’s going to be there today.  Something about meetings with the Queen lasting most of the day.”

 

“I think I’ll stay in my rooms today, Ryuu.  Thank you though.  The wedding is less than a week away and I think I should start mentally preparing myself for it.”  He gives Ryuu another lonely smile before he turns to slip out the side door.

 

Ryuu hopes he’s doing the right thing with all of this.  Knowing what the others are searching for and not telling Akira hurts.  But he thinks that right now not being able to be Akira’s friend would hurt more in the long run.


	13. speak now or gtfo

Kiyo is not hiding.  No matter what Asahi or Aomine might try to imply with their stares or eyebrow raises or knowing smirks.  He just needs a little time to himself without the cloying presence of his current advisers or the confusing presence of Akira hovering at the edge of his mind.  Shiro he can handle, especially since Shiro is busy going over wedding guard details with Akaashi and Suga so their connection is rather muted at the moment.

 

He opens the library door with a quick glance over his shoulder - he is not hiding - and slips inside.

 

He thinks he’s alone.  Then he takes a few steps into the library and spots a familiar head of hair near the windows.  His heart soars for a moment.  Until his sister turns around with her arms crossed and his heart crashes into the rocks.  She’s probably here for the wedding, it’s too much of a coincidence otherwise for her to just happen to show up the day before he’s getting married, but he hadn’t been told anything about her arrival and Shiro hadn’t mentioned it and he knows that even with their mother keeping strange secrets there is no way she would have let her baby girl return to the kingdom and the palace without guards and some kind of security thrown into place and there’s no way that would have been able to slip past his own wedding guard detail.

 

“Does your husband know you’re here?”  It’s not the proper way to greet a sibling you haven’t seen in almost a year.  But he’s stressed and if he gets to be just Kiyo and not Prince Kiyo of Maylen, next in line for the throne, around anyone it’s his sister.

 

She raises an eyebrow and he can feel the waves of judgment and displeasure rolling off of her.

 

“I don’t know.  Does yours?”  And there it is.  “Oh wait you’re not married yet.  Glad I didn’t miss the wedding.”

 

“Karin,” he starts.  “You have to believe me.  Okay?”

 

“When you begin your apology like that I’m not inclined to believe anything you say for the next three minutes.”

 

Kiyo rakes his hand through his hair and growls at her.

 

“You know what?  Whatever.  No one cares what I have to say anyway so why should you be any different?”

 

Kiyo spins on his heel and marches back out of the library.  He has no idea where he’s going but he’s going to make damn sure there are no people around that he has to even so much as hear breathing anywhere near him.

 

 

Keiji rolls his shoulders and stretches his arms as he and Shiro make their way down to the training room.  Luckily he’s been getting better at blocking and evading.  He had woken up a couple weeks ago to Kuroko standing silently next to his bed, staring down at him with his pale unblinking eyes radiating disapproval, and had nearly had a heart attack at the sight.  Then Kuroko had lifted the hem of his shirt and Keiji spotted the nasty bruise on Kuroko’s stomach.  He’s not sure why Kuroko is so upset.  Most of the marks and bruises and whatnot have been under clothing so they’re not all that visible and it’s not like Kuroko gets the pain of them, just the colors.

 

Maybe it’s more concern  _ for _ Keiji than anything else.  He’s not used to people actually caring so much about his wellbeing.

 

Either way.  Shiro has been working with him on it and Suga promised to spar with him later this week after the wedding.  He’s looking forward to it more than he probably should seeing as how Suga is more or less the only other person he’s come across who is actually capable of kicking his ass.  But that’s the fun of it.

 

They just have to be careful today since the wedding is only a couple days away and, as Kiyo’s closest advisers and bodyguards, they have a look to maintain.

 

That doesn’t mean they can’t work out some of their tension and frustration before then.

 

“I just don’t really get it,” Shiro tells him.  “I know he’s worried about the wedding and all that but it’s still really hard to get a read on him.  We’ve never had trouble communicating or understanding each other before, no matter what’s been going on.  It seems strange that Prince Akira appears and now everything is so overwhelming.  It’s almost like those first few weeks after Kiyo’s birthday all over again.”

 

Keiji lets out a thoughtful noise and shrugs.  “It is hard to say for sure but I still think that Nitori’s idea has merit.  I mean, Kiyo did mention one time, when he was being all creepy soulmate fanboy to us, about soulmates who never find each other because of them being so far apart.  Different countries and continents and all that.  Just because soulmates are so common here doesn’t necessarily mean that everyone is going to wake up realizing their neighbor - or their childhood best friend - is their soulmate.”

 

They reach the stairs down to the training room and Shiro looks up to the sky and heaves a sigh.

 

“I just don’t know.  I mean it’s not impossible I suppose.  Even we don’t know everything about soulmates.  It’s just such a… strange thought that we have some missing third soulmate or something.”

 

“Even stranger than twenty people finding their soulmates at the exact same time?”  Keiji deadpans.

 

“That’s different,” Shiro says as they start down the steps.  “That was partially Kiyo.”

 

“And look who is in the middle of this current debacle: Kiyo.”

 

“I, uh, you.  You have a point.”

 

“Just think about it though?  You don’t necessarily need to be missing anything to have room for another person in your soul.  Even when you’re as dramatically devoted to each other as you and Kiyo are.”

 

Keiji pushes open the door with a soft laugh.  Then he frowns when he spots the stranger sitting in the windowsill across the room and Shiro tenses behind him.

 

The girl looks up and grins at them and Keiji is pretty sure he hears Shiro gulp.

 

“Oh hell no,” Shiro mutters.  “Not today, Satan.”

 

“Aw, Shiro,” she pouts.  “Don’t you wanna play?”

 

“Hello, Karin.  I didn’t know you were here.  Also, the last time we sparred you broke my nose and dislocated my jaw so no I’m not very inclined to play with you.”

 

Karin’s smile turns saccharine as she looks at Keiji and he stares back with a blank look.

 

“Fine okay.  I won’t spar with you.”  She waves dismissively at Shiro.  “Can I spar with the pretty one then?”

 

“That’s up to him.  I am not Akaashi’s keeper.”  Shiro sidles into the room and positions himself near the corner furthest away from the sparring ring.  “Just try not to hit his face.”

 

“It is an attractive face.”

 

“Yeah and that pretty face has to be next to your brother’s during the ceremony in two days.  So, you know.  Try not to break his nose or dislocate anything above the neck.”

 

Keiji can feel Karin’s assessing gaze as he turns to roll his eyes at Shiro.  He turns back to her and shrugs when she gives him a questioning look.

 

“Sounds good to me.  I was looking for a challenge today.”

 

Karin’s smile sharpens and Keiji quirks his eyebrow.  “Good.  And afterwords, Shiro, you and I are having a chat about all this wedding stuff.”

 

 

Karin wins, barely, but she wins.  Neither of them come out unscathed but they both walk away from the fight with unblemished smiles on their faces so that’s saying something.  Karin is even faster than Suga and is even more accurate with her blows than Shiro is and just keeping up with her exhausts Keiji enough that he drags his feet back towards his room, barely noticing Suga in the hallway in time to avoid tripping over him and as he changes for bed and notes the myriad of marks ready to bruise under his skin he wonders if maybe Kuroko is just going to murder him in his sleep himself instead of waiting for someone else to do it for him.  It would certainly save his soulmate a lot of time spent worrying over him in the end.

 

Especially when Kuroko has so many more important things on his plate right now to deal with.

 

—

 

“Wait what are you talking about?”

 

Kuroko lays down a small sheaf of papers.

 

“All the inconsistencies in the form of rumors, almost all of the strange little fluctuations in reports, that little niggling feeling that you’re not being told all the information or not being told the stuff that would help you prepare for whatever is coming your way?  Himura is behind it.  He’s been slowly planting people in Maylen for years now, practically since the war was over.”

 

“Himura?”  Kiyo whispers.

 

“Hibiki, not Akira.”  Tetsuya slips a scrap of paper to Kiyo.  It’s burnt to a crisp along the edges but much of it is still legible.  He doesn’t even try to understand the knot in his chest that unravels at the clarification of which cousin was behind it all.  “As far as any of us can tell Akira is just as much a pawn in this as you are.”

 

Kiyo stares down at the scrap in his hand and then to the papers sitting on his desk, eyes dark and distant.

 

“This isn’t just some last ditch attempt to stop the wedding.  We’ve been doing this for months now.  Since the day Akira got here and your upcoming wedding was announced we just had to work a little harder at it.”

 

“I know,” Kiyo says distractedly, “you’ve all been bringing me reports like this since the beginning.  I just.  I never thought it would actually come to anything more than me being stubbornly overdramatic and paranoid.”

 

Kuroko tells him everything they’ve found out as succinctly as possible.  Outlining the way Hibiki has been slipping people in, or turning people, and getting them to undermine Maylen’s Queen and especially Maylen’s Prince and cause little bubbles of unrest.  The way he’s been slipping himself closer and closer to the Queen via the peace talks between their kingdoms on the grounds that he has been representing Prince Akira while he continues to lead Kasna Stron which is how he managed to not only convince the Queen of the need for an alliance in the form of a marriage but the necessity for it to happen as soon as possible.  Kiyo’s stunt with disappearing for nearly four months just helped cement Hibiki’s case.  What would Maylen do, after all, if something had happened to Prince Kiyo and with Princess Karin already wed to the Prince of Woblary there would be no heir and no one in line for the throne?  And what better way to assure their continued peace even should such a tragedy occur than an alliance of marriage and family?

 

“He had started before you even came over to us,” Kuroko adds when he sees the look of distress on Kiyo’s face.  “All those little whispers you were worried about and rumors and your mother’s people keeping things from you?  That was him influencing her.  Convincing her you needed a minder of some kind other than just Shiro by making it look like you were making rash decisions when you were simply making uninformed ones.  I’m not sure if it makes a difference or not but from what Sawamura, Tachibana, and Kageyama managed to pick up in Kasna Stron there are pretty strong hints that should anything happen to you or should the wedding fall through completely it will fall back on Prince Akira.”

 

Kuroko sits on the edge of Kiyo’s bed and watches him pace the room.  With his disheveled bed head and loose pajama pants and bare feet he’s every bit the soulmate obsessed weirdo they let creep into their lives and he runs his hands through his hair almost angrily and tilts his head like he’s having a conversation.  Kuroko waits patiently for Shiro’s inevitable arrival while he pokes idly at a bruise just above his wrist and watches Kiyo pace out of the corner of his eye.

 

The door opens and Kiyo spins around on his heel and plants his hands on his hips.

 

“The wedding is off,” he declares before the door even shuts again.

 

“Postponed,” Shiro replies patiently, latching the door behind him.

 

“Indefinitely.”

 

“Maybe a few weeks while we get this sorted out.”

 

“May I go shower now?”  Kuroko asks, making them both jump in surprise.  “I feel rather filthy having been in Hibiki’s private rooms.”

 

“I assume Daichi already let Nitori know through their bond and he’s getting Akaashi to gather the others?  Because I feel we need to have a little meeting.”

 

Kuroko nods then adds, “I think you should have Prince Akira in on it too.  Stop having him be a pawn and let him have the chance to make his own choices.  It is his life after all.  He could be a valuable ally.”

 

With that he nods again and slips from the room, leaving Shiro to calm Kiyo down before the others arrive.

 

 

 

“You are not canceling the wedding.”  Takao crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at Kiyo.  “Nope.  Shun, Kageyama, and I have been working our butts of running between people getting everything arranged.  Do you know how much time we have spent on this?  No.  You are not canceling end of story.”  Izuki nods from his spot behind Takao.

 

“Shiro said postpone, not cancel.  Right?”  Daichi gives Shiro a glare before smiling soothingly at Takao.  “You were still talking about an alliance of sorts being a good idea.”

 

“We do need an alliance of some kind but until we know what Hibiki is up to I’m not sure a big elaborate wedding and party that will take a lot of guards and resources away is the best way to go.”  Suga glances around the room and sighs.  There’s really no good way to go about this now that they finally have proof of Hibiki’s transgressions but have no idea what the hell he’s planning for sure.

 

The door shuts with a soft click and they all look up to see Akira standing calmly, head tilted and dark crown flashing in the morning light as Tanaka stands behind him arms crossed and looking ready to brawl any of them.  Tanaka had become one of Akira’s closest friend in the months since he had been left here and while Suga has been happy to see the way Akira has finally started to loosen up a little with Tanaka’s influence he’s still worried that if it would come down to it Tanaka would be devastated to have to choose between Akira and the rest of his friends.  Then again he could just be projecting his own insecurities and worries about the choices he had made onto a friend who he knows can handle himself.  Thoughts of Issei and how he’s been in the months and months that Suga has been gone and the way Suga just left try to swarm up and he squashes them down firmly.  Now is not the time or place for him to be getting sentimental.

 

“Does anyone care to tell me what’s going on and what you’re discussing about my cousin?”  Akira has all the bearing of a prince commanding his subjects.  But they’re not his - not yet - and they glance to Kiyo who slides over the small sheaf of papers Kuroko had delivered to him less than an hour ago.  He gestures for Akira to sit at the table next to him and read.

 

Three sheets in Akira is frowning.

 

Halfway through he’s shaking his head in denial.

 

He goes pale on the last page and Kiyo reluctantly sets the charred half page about Akira’s role in things in front of him.

 

Akira works his jaw as he digests everything he read, swallows hard and presses his palms flat against the table.  Suga notes that Shiro and Kiyo both wince a little like they’ve suddenly been hit with a horrendous migraine but then they shake their heads clear and go back to watching Akira carefully. 

 

“How trustworthy is all of this?”  Akira looks from Kiyo to Shiro and then glances around the room.  “How am I to believe that this isn’t just some elaborate ploy to cut me off from my cousin and my people?  To isolate me further while I’m stuck here playing content consort to the prince in a kingdom that’s not mine and is highly unlikely to ever accept me no matter what I do to prove myself to them?”

 

Kiyo looks taken aback, like he’s never considered what Akira is saying as a thing that could ever happen, and Suga wonders at it.  He knows that the war is still a fairly recent memory for a lot of the people in the kingdom but would they really refuse to accept Akira just because of what kingdom he was born into?  He wants to be able to say no, that the people of Maylen are kind and accepting but he knows just as well as the rest of his friends in the room how easily the most accepting groups of people can turn against you when they realize how different you are.

 

“If you’ve never believed anything else, including my friendship with you, believe this: there’s no plot or grand scheme, Akira,” Tanaka says simply, voice traveling easily across the room despite it’s softness.  “At least not by Kiyo.  Kiyo has been nothing but honest with you even as distant as he’s been.”

 

“So I’m just supposed to believe that my cousin, who has been like a brother to me since I was born, who was practically raised by my mother, is the mastermind of some plot to marry me off to a far off kingdom and snatch the throne for himself?  As opposed to believing that I’m being married off for a continued alliance between two kingdoms who are finally at peace with each other as a show of good faith and that the Prince of said kingdom, who I know doesn’t like or trust me any more than the people of his kingdom do, is making up stories about my cousin?  You’re asking a hell of a lot from me considering you’ve barely spoken to me if you haven’t had to since I got here.”

 

“You avoid me just as much as I do you,” Kiyo mutters petulantly.  “Don’t heap all the blame on me here.”

 

Suga glances at Aomine who is scrunching his face at Akira’s words and then meets Akaashi’s eyes.  Akaashi shakes his head slightly and shrugs.

 

“How are you so sure that the people of Maylen don’t like or trust you?”  Suga asks carefully.

 

“Hibiki told me not to trust you,” Akira starts fiercely and then slows in realization. “Any of you.  He said that you’d try to trick me or worse.”

 

“I admit we might not have been the friendliest towards you,” Daichi says.  “But I don’t think any of us ever actively tried to do or say anything to cause you to dislike us.  Nor have any of the staff that I know of or the general public of Maylen when they’ve come across you.”

 

“But.  No.”  Akira looks around the room again, glances to Kiyo and Shiro, and then meets Tanaka’s eyes.  “My cousin,” he drops off, staring at the papers in front of him now.

 

“Your cousin,” Kiyo finally says, “appears to be up to something that we haven’t fully grasped yet.  And with that knowledge alone I don’t think that our wedding should be a priority, especially with him here in the palace for the event with as much free reign as my mother has been giving him.”

 

“We can’t cancel the wedding.”  Akira’s head snaps up.  “The alliance between our kingdoms and the show of peace and good faith is important.  Especially in the face of whatever my cousin may-” Akira looks pointedly at Kiyo “-or  _ may not _ be planning.”

 

Kiyo’s hands clench on the table then he pulls them into his lap.

 

“So don’t do the big fancy wedding part right now,” Aomine suggests.  “Just do whatever ceremony or paper work you need to be married and postpone the celebration for when things are figured out better.  That way your alliance still stands if you’re so determined to get married and all that shit but you can focus on the other stuff until later.”

 

“And what excuse do we use for managing the basics but not the entire ceremony and celebration?”

 

Aomine shrugs.  “I dunno.  Tell em one of you is too sick for the whole shebang or something.”

 

The room goes silent and Daichi shakes his head; its always fun to see the way people react to fact that Aomine can indeed use his brain for good and not just sexual innuendos and complaints.

 

“The change in the seasons here isn’t what you’re used to, Prince Akira,” Shiro starts thoughtfully.  “And you are feeling far too ill to go through with a large party and don’t want to drag the people down during it but you understand how important the wedding and the alliance are.”

 

“So, as the dutiful prince I’ve always been for my people, I want the official part to be done, as does my husband to be,” Akira continues his train of thought slowly, staring at Kiyo.  “To confirm our commitment to continuing the peace between our kingdoms.”

 

“But it would be remiss of me to not be by my new husband’s side on the day and night of our wedding, especially while he is feeling ill, so we are postponing our celebration for a few weeks so Prince Akira can return to full health,” Kiyo finishes.

 

They all let the words and the plan sink in, glancing around with nods and thoughtful looks.  It seems like a sound plan.

 

“Soulmates,” Akaashi suddenly coughs into his hand, breaking the silence.  They all turn to stare at him and he stares back.  “Look we’re all thinking it, I’m just saying.  The tiptoeing around it is starting to get irritating considering the way someone shoved the rest of us into the deep end without a flotation device.”

 

“He does have a point,” Suga agrees cautiously.  “I know you’ve had a lot on your minds with all this but maybe it’s time to actually talk about things?  You will be together all day and night after all.  What better way to spend your first hours as newlyweds?”

 

Kiyo gives them both betrayed looks and they smile sweetly back at him in unison.

 

“Traitors,” he hisses.  Their smiles widen.  “I trusted you.”

 

 

The small party from Kasna Stron had just arrived that morning for the wedding, not long after Kiyo’s inner circle’s impromptu meeting had finally broken up, and Hibiki eyes them distrustfully when Suga and Nitori break the news that the prince is feeling ill to the group of people waiting in the meeting room.  The queen sighs worriedly and Nitori assures her that Maylen’s best doctor had already been in to check on Akira and deemed that while it was nothing serious the prince should be allowed to rest as much as possible.  Suga explains that in the interest of maintaining the spirit of peace between kingdoms both princes were still wanting to be married that day and wanted their people to celebrate the occasion.  They, the doctor included, just felt it was best for Akira’s health to do a small private ceremony to cut down on the stress on his body and mind and then later, once he was back to full health and better acclimated to Maylen’s most recent change in season, they would have a large ceremony and celebration.  Nitori adds that Kiyo had already taken it upon himself to go talk to the priest in charge about the private ceremony but intended on returning to Akira’s side immediately and didn’t wish to be away from his side any longer than necessary, begging forgiveness from the queen on Kiyo’s behalf with his large blue eyes.

 

“I had hoped they would get to know each other these last months but I hadn’t realized they had bonded quite so quickly,” she says at last, breaking the silence that had fallen.

 

“Prince Kiyo has a way with people, Your Majesty.”  Nitori smiles sweetly at her and she returns it with a small nod.  “And he is quite serious about his duties not only as a prince but as, soon to be, a husband.  Both princes want nothing more than the continued peace between their kingdoms and, to tell you a secret?”  Nitori leans slightly towards the queen and somehow looks even more sweet and innocent than he had before.  Suga wonders if he should be taking notes.  “If it wasn’t for Prince Kiyo’s observant nature and determination to make Prince Akira feel at home here Prince Akira may have refused to admit that he felt ill at all.  Both princes have worked hard to assure that this alliance between themselves will be able to be extended to, and by, their people.”

 

 

“Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” Suga whispers after the doors shut behind them.  “And I thought I was a smooth talker.”

 

“Was it the part about Kiyo being observant?”

 

“More the part about him determined to make Prince Akira feel at home.”

 

“Dang.  My bad.”

 

“You are such a brat.”  Suga nudges Nitori’s shoulder as they make their way back towards Kiyo’s rooms - where Akira would be staying after that night and most of the others were already busy moving Akira’s belongings to - and shakes his head.  “I’m not sure how I feel about my sweet Kageyama dating you.”

 

Nitori blushes.  “Tobio plays bubble gum commercials nonstop in his head when he and I are making out just to annoy Daichi.  His idea.  He’s not quite so innocent.”

 

Suga’s laughter fills the hallway and announces their arrival long before they make it back to Kiyo’s rooms.

 

 

Seijuurou can tell that Hibiki does not approve of this change of plans and, more likely than not, doesn’t believe in the slightest that Akira is really too sick for the big ceremony to happen.  But being the royalty he is - and being a guest in the kingdom - he keeps his doubts to himself and simply stares balefully at Seijuurou and Shiro as the latter apologizes yet again and the former simply stands in front of the door leading to Kiyo’s rooms with a neutral expression on his face and his arms hanging loosely at his sides; crossed arms and returned glares will only come if Hibiki insists on trying to push his way in.

 

Finally one of Hibiki’s men from Kasna Stron hurries down the hallway and reminds Hibiki of a meeting with the queen in a half hour and he excuses himself politely so he can change out of his traveling clothes before their meeting.

 

_ Douchenozzle cousin on the way back.  Better make sure you’re all scarce in under two minutes. _

 

_ Do you really have to call him Douchenozzle?  Aren’t you supposed to be the mature one here? _  Daichi shoots back and Seijuurou lets out a huff of amusement.  He is going to have to try to get Daichi to use the word ‘Douchenozzle’ out loud.  Surely it will be even better to hear it with his ears and not just in his head.  He can almost picture the look of disappointment on Daichi’s face as he says it.

 

“Do you think he suspects?”  Shiro stretches beside him and drums his fingers on the collapsible quarterstaff he has hanging from his hip.  In the months they’ve been here Seijuurou can’t remember ever seeing him actually having it on him and that alone sobers his thoughts.

 

“Sure he suspects we’re up to something.  But I don’t think he knows what.  Probably just assumes that one, or both, of them aren’t fully on board with the whole wedding thing and we’re doing this to keep face.  Like we’re locking them in Kiyo’s room and forcing them to go through with the wedding or something.  Or at least forcing Kiyo since he’s the big bad rebellious prince.”

 

Shiro thinks about it and nods slowly.  “That.  That actually sound plausible.  I say we go with that if he tries to confront us.  Kiyo has been acting strange lately anyway so it would be believable enough to say that we were worried he was going to disappear and this was the best way to prevent it and still have the wedding and let the people celebrate the alliance.”


	14. bloody murder

Sunlight filters through the windows in his bedroom and Kiyo wonders if he could get away with just jumping out of one of them.  Not that he’d run away, not too far anyways, just far enough to think properly for a bit.  He’s been so restless lately and focusing on anything he should be is ten times harder than usual.  He’d stop well before leaving the palace grounds.  Maybe by the edge of the lake or tucked away in one of the little niches in the gardens.  But after a quick glance at the people in the room he knows it won’t work.  Akaashi would probably have him around the waist with his face in the carpet before he could even get the window nearest him open.  That’s if he even let him get that close.

 

 

_ “You’re supposed to be by your fiance’s side helping him recover enough energy to go through the bare bones ceremony in a couple hours,” Akaashi had scolded him when he complained about not being allowed to do anything.  “How is it going to look if you’re trudging around dragging boxes instead of with him?” _

_ “Like I’m eager to get all of his things moved in with me so we can begin living together properly?”  Kiyo had flashed Akaashi his most brilliant smile that usually netted him anything he wanted.  Akaashi’s cheeks had flushed a little but he stood his ground and pointed back into the bedroom. _

_ “Don’t make me actually lock you in there, please.” _

 

 

Akaashi hadn’t locked the door but he had made sure that at least one of them was always staying behind as they moved Akira’s things.  Kiyo would be hurt by Akaashi’s obvious lack of trust if Kiyo hadn’t already managed to slip away from Akaashi four and a half times in the last three days.  That last half a time didn’t count because how was he supposed to know that Kuroko had been watching from the corner of the room?  He hadn’t even known Kuroko was  _ in _ the room.

 

He still debates going for it, he even twitches a little closer to the tempting windows, and then Akira and Tanaka appear in the doorway from the sitting room outside Kiyo’s bedroom and he tries not to look too irritated by their presence.  Judging by the looks on their faces he doesn’t do a great job.  He can hear Akaashi softly directing whoever else is helping move Akira’s things and he wonders how this is really his life.  As a prince he’s gotten used to having other people take care of things for him, though he likes to do as much as he can himself, and basically being given an itinerary of the day and told this is what’s happening when and then left on his own.  What he’s not used to is actually being trapped in his own rooms while everyone else bustles around and refuses to even let him lift a bag or chest.

 

“Apparently,” Akira says in that soft, commanding voice of his, “I am to be quarantined in your bed for the rest of the day.  Or at least until after our ceremony has finished.”

 

“And I get to watch,” Tanaka croons at them, wiggling his eyebrows and winking at Akira.  He laughs and shakes his head and Kiyo rubs at his temple.  Maybe he should have been the one they claimed was sick; he certainly feels off-kilter enough to pull it off.  His stomach clenches when Tanaka claps Akira on the shoulder and makes a joke that has him laughing again.  It almost feels like jealousy.  Which is ridiculous.

 

“Are you alright, Prince Kiyo?”  Akira is watching him carefully and Kiyo hates it.  Hates the scrutiny and the innocent gaze and the familiar uncertainty reflecting back at him from Akira’s eyes.

 

“Heartburn,” Kiyo lies easily.  

 

Or not.

 

Akira’s lips twitch towards a frown and Kiyo barely resists the urge hunch his shoulders like a child in the middle of a scolding.

 

“Perhaps some rest would do you well then.  If not we shall have to tell the priest that you are just pale from staying up with me last night and keeping me company while I’ve been ill.”

 

 

The ceremony is over almost before it begins, or at least it feels that way to Akira.  He focuses on listening to the priest while maintaining a delicate balance between looking weary from his illness and excited to see the ceremony through to completion; it’s not too hard since he is rather exhausted from the last couple days and is more than ready to be done with it all.  There are only five of them in Kiyo’s sitting room: he and Kiyo, the priest, and Ryuu and Sugawara as their impartial witnesses.  He and Kiyo stand near one of the small couches - presumably in case he feels faint - and the priest stands before them.  Kiyo takes Akira’s hands in his own and the priest settles his on top of theirs.  He recites his prayers and chants, gives his blessings on their union and alliance, and then clasps his hands around theirs.

 

“This is not just a union of two hearts and two souls.  This is a unions of two kingdoms.  Do you both swear to uphold the peace that has been bestowed upon your kingdoms and always act in the best interests of not only yourselves and each other but first and foremost of the kingdoms you both command?”

 

“We do,” they answer in unison.

 

The priest gives them both a proud smile.  “Then by the power granted to my station and the duty given to me, in front of the witnesses here and the deities in your hearts, I am honored to pronounce you husbands.”  He slides his hands until he’s holding onto each of their wrists.  “May good health and long peaceful lives be the only thing you know.”

 

“Thank you,” Kiyo bows his head to the priest.

 

Akira echoes him a moment later.

 

Kiyo directs him to sit on the couch with a gentle nudge once the priest lets go of them and he gives Kiyo a weary smile.  Then papers are signed and seals are affixed and the priest is leaving with parting words of hoping for Akira’s swift recovery and that he will be more than happy to perform the ceremony again for their kingdoms after Akira has recovered.

 

A wave of relief washes over Akira as soon as he hears the door shut and the way he slumps into the couch is no act.

 

“Oh thank fuck that’s over,” he whispers.  He claps his hand over his mouth as soon as the words slip out and can feel his cheeks flushing when Ryuu turns to him with a grin on his face.

 

“Such crude language for a prince,” Ryuu teases.

 

“Apparently I’ve been hanging around you too much,” Akira shoots back.  He can feel Kiyo’s eyes on him and he rubs at his chest absently at the flare of  _ something _ that presses there.  He clears his throat.  “So now what?”

 

“Well no one will expect to see us until tomorrow morning at the earliest, especially with you being ‘ill’ and all.”  Kiyo shrugs and settles on the other small couch across from Akira.

 

“Someone may still want to want to visit you two, even with Prince Akira being indisposed so it is probably best if he stay in bed under the covers and Kiyo, of course, will need to stay with him.”  Sugawara gives them both a sweet smile.  “So now that you two are married-” his smile turns even sweeter somehow and Akira’s stomach starts twisting into knots of dread though he isn’t sure why “-you can talk about being soulmates.”

 

That was not what he expected to hear at all.  He glances at Kiyo to see if this is some sort of joke - everyone and their dog in Maylen knows that Shiro and Kiyo are deeply devoted soulmates and he has no place in that arrangement he’s sure - and feels like he’s been punched at the wide eyed look of betrayal on his face.

 

“Wait.  What?”  Akira manages to ask dumbly as Sugawara waves Ryuu towards the door.  Were they serious?

 

“Now now.  Off to bed with you.”  Sugawara gives one last smile over his shoulder.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll keep an eye out for anything weird so you two have plenty of time to relax and chat.”  He wiggles his fingers at them and then the door is shut and Akira and Kiyo are left sitting across from each other, neither quite able to look the other in the eyes.

 

“Soulmates?”  Akira starts cautiously.  It’s almost like he’s never quite formed the word with his own tongue.  The weight and shape of it feels so different with Kiyo sitting across from him, wide eyed and breathing deeply, trying to remain calm.  Akaashi’s and Suga’s words the morning before sink in and he sucks in a deep breath.  He’s never even allowed himself to imagine having a soulmate.  Hibiki had told him for as long as he could remember that it was impossible for him to have one.  Why, he can’t quite remember anymore, just that that’s the way it was for him.

 

“Let’s just get you back to bed.”  Kiyo jerks to his feet and nods back towards his bedroom.  “Never know when someone is gonna wanna pop in to give their congratulations.  I doubt they expect us to, you know, consummate the marriage today since you’re sick and all but we should at least probably be in the bedroom and talking and stuff if someone does show up.  Hate for someone to walk in on you not being sick.”

 

Kiyo is babbling.  While Akira hasn’t had a lot of chances to actually sit down for a casual chat with Kiyo he has seen him talking to others enough to know that while he occasionally gets off on tangents and talks passionately about things he doesn’t nervously babble.  But Akira can’t see this as anything but nervous babbling.  Considering Kiyo is also swallowing every few words and his eyes are darting around like he’s just stolen cookies and the baker is stomping their way back down to the kitchen towards the only door and he still has chocolate smeared on his lips.

 

“If I go to bed will you sit down?”  Kiyo pauses and barely glances at Akira as he paces past the couch for the third time in less than two minutes.  “Watching you is making my fingers go twitchy.”

 

“You’re making my brain go twitchy,” Kiyo grumbles.

 

Akira slips off the oversized sweater he had been wearing over his bedclothes - they had wanted him to look somewhat appropriate for the ceremony but still not feeling well - and leaves it on the couch.  He doesn’t like the idea of being in pajamas all day but he understands the necessity.  He also doesn’t like the idea that the rest of Kiyo’s little inner circle is still working hard to find even more proof of his cousin’s supposed treachery but he can’t deny that a tiny part of him almost wants them to find something.  The tiny part of him that is from childhood and filled with the wonders of happily ever afters and fairy tales and soulmates and the warmth of a mother’s smile.

 

Kiyo’s bed is soft and his blankets are cool.  Akira props himself up stiffly against the extra fluffy pillows while Kiyo flutters around the room, straightening stuff on his desk and then shuffling the clothes hanging in his closet a bit and stepping into his sitting room only to come back into the bedroom seconds later.

 

“Please either sit down in here or pace out there.  Honestly.  Watching you is making me anxious.”

 

The sudden tension that spikes between them makes Akira want to throw up, then curl into a ball under Kiyo’s ridiculously fluffy blanket but he refuses to look away from Kiyo’s gaze.  He was a prince too, damn it, and he was tired of walking on eggshells around Kiyo and tired of never knowing how much he could say and tired of being looked down on for being who he was.  He was a prince and he was not going to go into his first few hours of marriage with his new husband forgetting that.  He was every bit a prince as his husband and he was not going to allow himself to be treated as anything less.  Even when he was stuck in bed pretending to be sick.

 

“Oh.  You’re anxious?  Why do you think I’m pacing?  For funsies?”  Kiyo snaps back and jerks his hand through his hair.  A hard ball of anger sinks into Akira’s stomach and he narrows his eyes.  “You think this is some kind of enjoyable afternoon in for me?  Believe me there are far better things I could be doing with my time than this.”

 

His fingers clench around the thick blanket covering his lap and he takes a deep breath to try and steady himself.  He knows he’s not acting like himself but can’t put his finger on why and Sugawara’s flippant remark about soulmates is starting to sound like it might make sense.

 

Akira takes another deep breath.  “I’m going to politely ask you to not take that tone with me.”  

 

Kiyo raises his eyebrows and scoffs.  “I’m going to politely ask you to fu-”

 

“Prince Kiyo!”  They both turn to look at the doorway in surprise.  “Really?”  Nitori crosses his arms, bright blue eyes swimming with disappointment in their actions, and that ball of anger in Akira’s stomach rolls into one that’s shaped a little more like shame.  Though why he’s ashamed when it was Kiyo who started it and Kiyo getting scolded he doesn’t know.  Or doesn’t quite want to admit perhaps.

 

Nitori has Kiyo’s attention so Akira lets his own wander towards what he doesn’t want to admit and why.  Is it because it had basically been ingrained in his mind that he didn’t have a soulmate, that the magical ‘perfect partner’ for him just apparently never existed?  Or is it the tremor of fear that courses through him when he thinks about the reality that maybe he does have someone and the complications involving letting them in?  But then there’s also the delicate well of hope that trickles through his veins like icy realizations that maybe, just maybe, things will work out no matter how bizarre and complex they seem to be at the moment, and maybe his cousin hasn’t really been on his side this entire time after all.  It’s a lot to take in considering just a few hours ago he was stepping into a meeting of Kiyo’s inner circle and being presented with papers that painted his cousin a treacherous bastard at the very least.

 

Sadness gnaws at his bones at the thought of Hibiki truly being a bad person.  They had grown up together, practically as brothers, he hadn’t exaggerated.  Hibiki had looked after him after his mother died, kept him safe and sane and grounded.  They had shared secrets and laughter and stolen pastries from the kitchen.  His mind reels, yells, screams that the Hibiki he knows isn’t capable of this kind of treachery.  But, a voice whispers in the back of his mind, what about the Hibiki that planned this alliance between kingdoms, arranged it without a single word until the morning he had ushered Akira onto a carriage and explained what was going to be happening?  What about the Hibiki who presented reports to Akira that always seemed to be missing tiny, yet vital, bits of information he should have had?  What about the Hibiki who dumped him here and went back home to Kasna Stron to, essentially, rule in Akira’s absence?  What about the Hibiki who always told him of the cruel nature of the people of Maylen, always warned him of the monstrosities that occurred daily, who told him the people here would despise him and mock him?

 

He’s chewing on his thumbnail - a nervous habit from childhood he thought he rid himself of years ago - when the bed dips and cool fingers hesitantly wrap around his wrist.

 

“Uh, Akira?”  He lets Kiyo tug his hand away from his mouth.  He wonders how long he’s been spacing out and when Nitori left.  “I hate admitting when Suga is right.  But maybe we should talk.”

 

Akira swallows thickly.  He doesn’t want to do this.  He doesn’t want to talk.  He doesn’t want to face down whatever demons are creeping at the edge of his thoughts.  Everything is confusing and knotted up in his chest and he wants to rip out his heart and toss it away.  Surely things would be simpler without that damned organ beating wildly or clenching sporadically or wrestling with the logic of his mind about anything and everything.

 

“Can we go back to arguing instead?” Akira asks.  “That feels like the safer option.”

 

 

 

They had taken their meal in his sitting room, couches positioned and angled to catch the evening light perfectly, and watched the sun finally sink below the horizon and darkness creep over the world.  The day had gone pleasantly enough, considering being locked up in his rooms with Akira had been the last place Kiyo had wanted to be, and they had actually spent most of it talking.  Not about being soulmates, fuck no he wasn’t touching that topic with a mile long stick especially without Shiro around for stability and backup.  But they had talked; had been so engrossed in conversation they hadn’t even realized they had an audience until Makoto had cleared his throat almost nervously and gave them a small wave when they startled.  Kiyo hadn’t jerked away from Akira’s side where he had been sitting the last hour but it was a close thing.  Makoto had distractedly given updates about what the others had done and found so far and then excused himself with a smile that promised a scolding of epic proportions.  Kiyo assumed Makoto needed to go talk to his soulmate about taking naps on such an important day.  Aomine had an uncanny ability to nap nearly anywhere at anytime.  Sometimes he was a little jealous of that ability to fall asleep.  Times like now when he’s eying his bed like he’s never seen it before.  

 

It’s not like he’s never shared his bed before.  He and Shiro have shared beds and cots and blankets thrown haphazardly on the grass countless times.  Hell they shared this very bed just a couple weeks ago, curled under the covers together and just listening to each other’s breaths.  But Shiro is the only person he’s shared a bed with.  The only one he’s ever wanted, or been prepared, to share such an intimate space with.  The only one he was really comfortable sharing his life with.

 

So maybe he hadn’t been as prepared to accept an arranged marriage as he always acted like he was.  He was deeply, hopelessly devoted to Shiro and it gnaws at him, this possibility that Akira is also meant to fit in this niche in the world he and Shiro have carved for themselves.  For all that he is a prince devoted to his people there is only one person he willingly kneels for, one person who can drop him to his knees with a look and have him offering his very being to with a touch, one person he has given everything to and the only person he’s ever trusted to have him, all of him.

 

And that one person is standing outside the door to his rooms, so close yet so infinitely far away, while he watches someone else prepare for bed.

 

Not that Akira is doing much to prepare for bed.  He’s just changing into new pajamas since he’s been in his other ones all day and getting a drink of water.  But even those little actions feel gigantic and intimate in the darkened room and every cell in Kiyo’s body is rebelling at the thought of Akira sliding under the covers on Shiro’s side of the bed.

 

But he is a prince and this is his duty and Akira isn’t the kingdom stealing monster that Kiyo wishes he was. It would be so much easier to hate Akira if he were a monster.  Instead the feeling that Kiyo has been getting more and more throughout the day is that Akira is less a monster and more a puppet and pawn for whatever Hibiki has been planning.  Which makes it nearly impossible for Kiyo to hate him; Kiyo has always had a soft spot for lost souls after all and one only needed to look at his soulmate crew and the members of his inner circle to see it.

 

So instead of throwing open his doors and demanding that Shiro take his rightful place in Kiyo’s bed instead of the man he had wed earlier that day, Kiyo shuts the door to his sitting room, throwing the bedroom into complete darkness, and settles under the blanket next to Akira.  The warmth of another person in bed with him makes him instinctively want to roll over and curl around the source of the warmth.  Knowing that it is Akira and not Shiro and that he’s honestly not sure what Akira would do if he touched him - for all he knows Akira would knee him in the balls and push him out of bed should he startle him like that - keeps Kiyo still and stiff as a board on his side of the bed.  Kiyo tries to relax but every shift and yawn and deep breath from Akira has him twitching and adjusting his body to keep space between them.

 

There’s no comforting words from Shiro.  No teasing jibes.  There’s not even the static of distance or the solid feeling of one of them having almost closed their connection to concentrate.  It’s just a giant hum of nothingness and it makes it even harder for Kiyo to relax.

 

Akira sighs heavily in the darkness and scoots towards Kiyo until he’s curled just a breath away and Kiyo can feel the heat radiating from him.  Akira reaches out and for a hysterical moment Kiyo is sure that he’s going to die.  That Akira is going to slip a knife between his ribs and stop the wild beating of his heart for good.  This is the moment that Akira shows his true colors and Kiyo is just going to lay here and let it happen because he can’t move.  He can’t think straight.  He can’t even breathe properly.  He- 

 

He jerks in surprise when the blade doesn’t pierce his skin and, instead, Akira’s warm palm rests against his bare chest.

 

“I’m not going to turn into some nightmare monster and gobble you up or something now that the lights are off.  Or whatever weird things you’re thinking that have you practically hyperventilating over here.”  Akira’s voice takes on that slightly commanding tone, that tone of leadership, and Kiyo wants to listen to it.  Wants to do whatever Akira tells him to do in that soft voice.  “This is going to be something that’s expected of us, the whole sharing a bed thing, so we might as well get used to it.”

 

Kiyo tries to make some sassy remark the likes of which would have half his inner circle rolling their eyes at him.  All he manages is a throaty whine of some sort that makes Akira chuckle and drop his head against Kiyo’s shoulder.

 

“Spoken like a true prince,” Akira teases, lips curling and brushing against Kiyo’s skin.  “Goodnight, Kiyo.”

 

His shoulder is warm where Akira’s forehead is resting, his skin tingling where Akira’s lips brushed, and his pulse is rocketing through his body so hard he’s afraid he might burst.

“Goodnight,” he whispers back.

 

 

 

Shiro glances at Seijuurou and sighs when the other man shakes his head.

 

“Nothing from their end yet.”

 

Shiro and Seijuurou are stationed just outside the doors to Kiyo’s rooms.  Shiro had wanted to wait outside the bedroom door but opted - after more than a couple harsh words with Akaashi - to wait outside Kiyo’s rooms completely to give some semblance of privacy for the newlyweds.  To keep up appearances with anyone who should happen to wander by if nothing else.

 

Tanaka and Suga are patrolling the corridors leading from Kiyo’s rooms back to the main areas of the palace and Nitori and Akaashi are keeping an eye on the guests quarters of the palace where Hibiki and the small party from Kasna Stron are staying.  Kuroko and Aomine are somewhere doing something useful he’s sure but he didn’t quite get the details.  They’re under Akaashi and Daichi’s command and honestly he’s okay with that.  Kuroko scares the piss out of him sometimes.

 

“Are you really ready?”  Seijuurou gives Shiro a weary look; they’ve talked about this a dozen times since they found out the surprise that Hibiki seemed to have planned for the newlywed’s wedding night.  “I mean.  I would do anything for him. I  _ have _ done anything necessary to keep him safe in the past and won’t hesitate to do it again.  I’m not asking you to make the same choices.”

 

“He’s my prince now too,” Seijuurou replies stubbornly.

 

“That doesn’t mean you need to be willing to kill for him.  If it comes down to that I can take care of it.”

 

“True.  But if it comes down to that I might not have a choice but to take care of it myself.  I doubt they’ll really be willing to just surrender quietly.  Not with what they’re here for.”  Seijuurou takes a deep breath and rubs a hand down his face.  “Just.  Be willing to talk me out of wherever my brain would try to go if I do have to kill someone?”

 

“Of course.”

 

They both stiffen at the sound of one of the windows in the sitting room creaking open and then Seijuurou laughs loudly.  After a moment Shiro laughs too, seemingly feeling foolish for their ‘overactive imaginations’ and giving whoever is sneaking in a little more confidence that they hadn’t been heard.  Seijuurou starts up a monologue, just loud enough to be heard in the sitting room, and Shiro leans in close to the door to listen for the familiar telltale squeak of Kiyo’s bedroom door opening.

 

 

The moment he hears it he shoves the door open and charges inside, light from the hallway flooding the sitting room, Seijuurou is a step behind him.

 

There’s one stranger in the sitting room and they look up in shock when the door flies open.  Seijuurou immediately charges towards them and Shiro turns to the bedroom.  There’s a surprised gasp and then scuffling and the sound of something tearing from the darkened room and he rushes inside.  One person is leaning over Kiyo in the dim light and the other is scrambling to their feet from a tangle of torn curtains near the window as Akira slides out of the bed and swipes at his cheek with the back of his hand.  Both assassins are armed with dangerous looking blades that glint in the moonlight.  Kiyo growls something and Shiro hears the assassin leaning over him suck in a breath of surprise just before he hears the familiar crack of a broken wrist.  He turns his attention to the assassin with their eyes on Akira and jumps forward just as the assassin lunges, grabbing the arm with the knife and yanking it until it snaps and the assassin lets out a scream of pain.  

 

Cursing fills the air behind him - not Kiyo - and his attention wavers enough that he almost misses the second knife the assassin in front of him manages to slip from somewhere.  Another stopped and twisted arm and then liquid warmth is seeping over his fingers from the knife wound in the assassin’s chest.  The body slowly sinks to the floor and Shiro turns.  The second assassin is propped against the wall near the door, breathing shallowly and pawing almost confusedly at the wound in their throat.  Seijuurou steps into the doorway a moment later and glances around the room.  Other than the torn curtain and messy blankets nothing is out of place and if it weren’t for the blood and the bodies it wouldn’t look like anything other than perhaps a small lover’s spat had happened.

 

“We good?”  Shiro asks the room but his eyes are on Seijuurou, who takes a shaky breath and rubs at his chin before nodding.  Then his eyes go distant.

 

“Sounds like Hibiki just left his room and told one of the servants nearby something about having a bad feeling and insisting on seeing his cousin.”

 

 

_ Too close. _  Is all Shiro can make out from Kiyo.   _ Too fucking close you let them get too fucking close. _

 

Kiyo doesn’t appear to have a scratch on him and his hair is barely even mussed.

 

Rage suddenly swells through Shiro’s chest - rage that is not his - and Shiro glances in confusion at Kiyo and then slowly follows Kiyo’s gaze past himself to where Akira is standing, moonlight illuminating the cut on his cheek as he stares down at the assassin at his feet.  Akira looks up at them warily, hand hovering halfway to his cheek, and then stumbles over to sit on the bed.

 

Rage and irritation and, oddly enough, betrayal surge at Shiro, threaten to overwhelm him, and he turns calmly to Kiyo as he wipes his bloodied hand on his pants.

 

“Is there something you’d like to say, my Sweet?”

 

Akira twitches at the edge of his vision and the betrayal tinges with guilt and he would address that but Kiyo is glaring at him.

 

“You and I both know that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Kiyo states and Shiro raises his eyebrows; that is Kiyo’s prince tone and oh fuck no he did not just take that tone with Shiro.  “But why in the hell did you put Akira in danger like that?”

 

Shiro takes a deep breath.

 

"Kiyo.  You know I love you unconditionally.  But you need to pull your head out of your ass.  Preferably soon so I can replace it with my boot up there instead."

 

“I’m okay,” Akira says softly.  “Guess all that reflex training I was doing with Ryuu paid off in the end.”  His nervous chuckle cuts off when they hear a commotion from the hallway outside Kiyo’s rooms.

 

 

“No,” Hibiki is saying loudly, interrupting what sounds like Suga’s voice, “I don’t care what you say.  Akira is my cousin and I have a feeling something horrible has happened to him and you will let me through this instant.  I don’t care what the doctors said about him needing rest earlier.  I will be allowed into these rooms.”

 

They go back and forth a few more rounds until Kiyo sighs and rubs his hand down his face.

 

“Suga let him in,” Shiro calls out.  “Let him come see his cousin.”  He and Kiyo stare at each other, both promising that there  _ will _ be words spoken between them later, until Seijuurou finally steps fully into the room so Hibiki can enter.

 

Hibiki’s eyes widen as he looks around the room though Shiro can’t tell if its because of the dead bodies or the live ones.  Suga clears his throat and leans casually against the door frame, Tanaka peering over his shoulder, essentially trapping Hibiki in the bedroom.

 

“Now that you’ve seen that your cousin is safe and sound, barely even ruffled though a bit worn out from the look of it,” Suga starts and there’s a dangerous edge to his voice that reminds Shiro just why Kiyo chose Suga to be one of his closest advisers.  “Do you care to explain why the three members of the party you brought with you from Kasna Stron for your cousin’s wedding are now lying dead in Prince Kiyo’s rooms after attempting to assassinate him and his new husband?”


	15. soulmates

A heavy silence fills the room in wake of Sugawara’s carefully veiled accusation.

 

“Are you implying that I intentionally brought assassins with me to what should have been my cousin’s wedding?  Which, by the way Akira, I am delighted to see that you seem to be feeling much better than you were this morning.”

 

“I’m not implying anything,” Sugawara states with a grim smile.  “I’m simply wondering if you can explain how the only three people you brought with you all the way from Kasna Stron happened to be assassins who tried to kill both princes on the night of their wedding.”

 

Sugawara is playing a dangerous game but no one seems concerned so Akira stays silent.

 

“Whether you’re implying it or not I certainly didn’t know they were assassins.”  Hibiki starts to take a step towards Akira and frowns slightly when Mikoshiba steps between them on his way to inspect the body near the window.  Mikoshiba mutters some kind of apology and squats down next to the body.

 

“You traveled with them for, what?  Nearly a week at least depending on your stops?  And you didn’t have the slightest idea that they were up to anything?  How did you even decide on them as your party?  Just curious,” Sugawara adds when Hibiki levels a glare in his direction.  Akira wants to step in, feels like it is his duty to since this is his cousin, but Kiyo is still standing near the edge of the bed content to let Sugawara handle things.  So he simply watches.

 

“My diplomatic adviser suggested them.”  Hibiki gives Sugawara a weary, yet triumphant, smile.

 

“Oh?”  Sugawara’s smile is a victorious and vicious thing and Akira makes a note to, if at all possible, never cross him.  “Would that be the former adviser who had held the position since just before Prince Akira’s mother was killed or the current one who took over not quite two months ago when you returned from announcing the wedding and leaving your cousin here?”  Hibiki stares at Sugawara.  The expression on Hibiki's’ face is so foreign it takes Akira a few moments to realize what it is: this is the first time he can remember seeing shock on his cousin’s face.  “Or perhaps you have another diplomatic adviser we are unaware of?”

 

“For not implying anything you sure sound like you’re implying plenty.”

 

“Still not implying.  Merely curious.”

 

Akira raises his hand to his cheek absently to check if it is still bleeding and the motion draws Hibiki’s attention.  He stares into his cousin’s eyes and wonders at what he sees there.  Wonders how much of the caring loving cousin who was practically his brother was just some elaborate act.  He thinks back to the reports he had read that morning.  To the pieces of plans that Kuroko had been collecting and copying and stealing back in Kasna Stron.  To the charred scrap of paper with Hibiki’s handwriting, as familiar as Akira’s own, vaguely outlining how Akira was set to take the fall should anything go wrong with this alliance to Maylen and how the throne would be securely in Hibiki’s grasp.

 

Hibiki smiles sadly at Akira and shakes his head.

 

“What did I tell you, Aki?  They’ll never trust us.”

 

“Stop,” Akira says sadly.  The childhood nickname rips at something near his heart and he feels the heat of frustration and tears pressing at his throat.  “Just stop.  They told me, Hibiki.  They showed me the reports.  I saw the plans and letters written by your hand.”  He takes a deep breath.  “You really thought you’d get away with it?”

 

Hibiki laughs harshly.

 

"Dear cousin,” Hibiki sneers at Akira and he shudders at the sudden change.  “That’s why it’s worked so well.  You're just a broken little thing, Akira.  So easy to use and prop this way and that.  You always have been.  Even now.  Surrounded by all these people you’re still just broken little Akira.”

 

“I'm not broken.  I think they-  No.  I know.  They're my soulmates,” he sounds much more sure of himself than he feels.  Part of him, that part of him that remembers waking up to silence day after day with nothing to show for it, wants to believe Hibiki's words are still true.  That they’ve always been true.  That Hibiki is still practically his big brother.  “That's something.”

 

“Is it?  Do you think you'll ever really matter to them?  That you'll ever be anything to them?  A bond as strong as theirs and you think they'll just, what?  Let you in just like that?  You the dark, ruined prince who wants to take over their kingdom?  That’s what everyone will believe.  At least after I’ve had my say.”

 

Akira has no brave words for that.  No fearless comebacks.  All he has is a gnawing monster in his chest that's been working on his heart for years and the rapidly growing feeling that Hibiki is right.  Even if he wanted to be a part of what they have what reason do they have to let him in?  No one back home knows what Hibiki has been planning.  Even if he manages to convince them to listen to him it’s his word against Hibiki’s and he knows now who is the better actor between his cousin and himself.  Seeing as how Hibiki has been planning this and playing Akira for years now.  Maybe even his entire life.

 

Hibiki smiles at him, triumphant in his victory, and beckons him forward.

 

A hand wraps around his elbow and he's yanked backwards.  Before he can fully register it Kiyo is stepping in front of him.  A moment later Shiro steps in front of them both, an immovable wall between them and Hibiki.

 

_ Kiyo. _  Akira startles at the voice in his head.  It's like he's been hearing things this whole time but they've been muffled and now, finally, the fog has lifted and Shiro's voice is as clear as day in his mind.   _ Don't say a word to him, Sweet Prince.  Just leave this to me. _

 

_ He's all yours, my angel. _

 

Akira stares at the back of Kiyo's head in shock and then slides his gaze to Shiro.

 

 

 

Akira concentrates and pulls himself away from the surge of thoughts and feelings and unusual pressures in his being that are suddenly just as clear and easy to grasp as his own.  He can wonder about the sudden shift later when they’re not standing in front of his cousin.  He misses whatever Shiro says to Hibiki but his cousin’s words hit him perfectly clear.

 

“I arranged for the death of the woman who basically raised me as her own son.  Do you really think I would hesitate to arrange the same for a wayward cousin who has outlasted his use?  Especially when he’s standing in the way of my rightful place on the throne?”  Kiyo tenses in front of him and Akira shifts forward so he can lean his weight into Kiyo’s back.  Kiyo takes a steadying breath and Akira feels a little of the clamoring worry filling his brain quiet down.  The touch seems to steady Kiyo and Akira thinks he’ll have a lot to ponder over later when he’s away from his cousin.  Far, far away.  Hibiki keeps talking but the words aren’t riling Kiyo and Shiro up the way Akira knows he wants them too.  The words hurt, sure.  But they aren’t whipping them both into the blind rage and thoughtlessness that Hibiki had always told Akira you could count on from Maylen royalty.  Hibiki’s tone turns harsh and vindictive as he continues.  “My cousin may have escaped two attempts on his life - he can thank his mother for that first one by the way - but rest assured that he won't escape a third.”

 

Tension thrums between Kiyo and Shiro.  Akira is a little too numb by this point to really feel anything other than the yawning chasm of emptiness trying to surround him.  His cousin really wanted him dead.

 

“I think that’s quite enough and it is time for you to leave.”  Sugawara steps away from the door and Akira startles, he hadn’t even remembered anyone else was in the room.  Ryuu is there with Sugawara, and they both look fierce and protective and angry, and Akira wonders if this trickling hint of warmth trying to push through the emptiness around him is what hope and friendship might feel like to most people.  “If I have to ask you, it won’t be done politely.”

 

Ryuu cracks his knuckles and grins menacingly.  Akira knows both the strength of those arms and the gentleness of the hands attached to them.  He wonders if everyone he knows is some kind of walking contradiction.  Mikoshiba finally stands from his spot next to the body near the window and gestures at Hibiki to leave.

 

_ Just hold on a little longer, Akira. _  Shiro’s voice fills his mind and he shudders at the sudden intimacy of it.  Shiro’s voice may as well be caressing his mind and dripping like candle wax down his spine.   _ We’ll get him out of here and then the three of us are  _ **_talking_ ** _. _  Kiyo’s breath hitches a little.  He’s tense where Akira is still pressed against his back and Akira starts to draw away in an uncomfortable panic.  Any confidence he had earlier when he was teasing Kiyo in the afternoon and curling against him under the blankets on his bed is gone.  He’s doing this.  Hibiki’s words are finally carving into him like that knife wielding assassin had tried to do.  He’s causing this tension between Kiyo and Shiro, has been since the moment he arrived, and he really should be the one going.  That’s what Hibiki wants, expects.  He should go back to before he knew what the comforting warmth of Kiyo’s shoulder against his and the weight of Shiro’s hand on his elbow and the way Kiyo’s heart beat steadily under his palm and the protective way Shiro looked at him felt like.

 

Kiyo reaches back and wraps his fingers around Akira’s wrist.   _ Stay. _

 

Akira blinks, having missed more words spoken between the others while his thoughts tried to overwhelm him, and watches Hibiki slink from the room.  He realizes that he would be okay with never seeing Hibiki again - alive or dead - and the thought startles him; he’s never been quite so ruthless before.

 

“I’d like to assume that most of what he was spewing out and all the shit on those reports was just mindless vitriol meant to tear you down,” Sugawara says softly as he catches Akira’s gaze.  “Please don’t do anything to make me think otherwise.”  Sugawara gestures for Ryuu and Mikoshiba to follow him to the door and Akira knows that the three of them will shadow Hibiki out of the palace and, possibly, the entire way out of the kingdom.

 

Once they’re alone Shiro finally takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders drop, hands hanging loosely at his sides as he turns to look at Kiyo and Akira both.

 

—

 

“Okay,” Shiro declares.  “Let’s talk.”

 

Akira glances around the room and grimaces at the torn curtains and the blood on the floor.  “Can we maybe do it in a room without dead bodies?”

 

“Squeamish?”  Shiro teases even as he waves them out of the room, hands settling on Kiyo and Akira’s lower backs for just a moment before jerking away, remembering the blood on them.  Akira’s wrist is still in Kiyo’s grasp and he follows along willingly when Kiyo tugs him out of the room.

 

“I just prefer to keep my distance from dead things.”

 

“Better stay far away from Hibiki then because if I see him again that’s what he’ll be,” Kiyo states.

 

 

Kiyo leads them through the hallways to Shiro’s rooms, shoving the door open and dropping onto the small couch in the middle of the room like it’s his own.  Akira follows, balancing himself on the arm of the couch and glancing around curiously as Shiro washes his hands off.  Shiro’s room looks a lot like Kiyo’s just less extravagant and filled with more life, more touches of Shiro and Kiyo and their time together, more everything.  Akira feels a little bit like he’s intruding somewhere even more private than Kiyo’s rooms had been.

 

 

“So,” Akira says when he can’t stand the tension in the air or the humming buzz of Shiro and Kiyo in the back of his mind.  “Is it safe to assume you no longer hate me?”  There’s an insistent press behind his eyes, a jittery buzz that’s threatening to consume his sanity, and he pushes it back.  Shoves it behind a wall in his mind as he tries to focus on the sudden tension in Kiyo’s shoulders and the way Shiro is studying him.  But it refuses to be contained.  It leaks out of the cracks in his defenses and leeches into his brain.  He’s so tired and confused, has been practically since the moment he met Kiyo’s gaze all those weeks ago and was, more or less, unceremoniously dumped at the foot of Kiyo’s throne, and he wants nothing more than for everything to just stop.

 

Warm fingers hover around his wrist for a few seconds before they tug his hand from his mouth and drop away - he’s been chewing on his thumbnail again this place is horrible for all those habits he thought he had grown out of - and he stares down as Shiro squats down in front of him and peers up at him curiously.  He remembers Kiyo’s cool fingers on his wrist earlier and wonders if Kiyo and Shiro realize how often they mimic each other’s moves without even realizing it.

 

“We’ve never hated you,” Shiro says.  “We’ve, admittedly, been rude and haven’t necessarily trusted your reasons for being here.  But we’ve never hated you.”

 

Akira huffs.  “Even when I spar with Ryuu and you glare at me every time you see me for the next day?”  He asks Shiro.  “And that’s only when you can even bring yourself to look at me.  And heaven forbid you have to touch me.”  He stares pointedly at Shiro’s hands clasped between his knees.  “And since when,” he growls as he glares down at Kiyo, “have you been worried so much about ‘putting me in danger’ that you snap at Shiro about it?”

 

Kiyo’s eyes widen and Akira stares down at him, waiting for the silvery gilded half lies to start dripping from Kiyo’s tongue.  He’s not ready for the heavy truth that seems to spill out instead.

 

“Okay so I’m pretty sure all three of us are soulmates somehow and it didn’t hit us until you showed up, or maybe the bond Shiro and I have had has never been the whole thing maybe there’s more to us now that you’re here, and I guess we’ve all been unconsciously screwing with each other’s emotions and thoughts and concentration and I may be slightly possessive and Shiro may be a little jealous and we are both very protective and can you stop looking at me like that?”

 

His head is throbbing now and he’s regretting everything.  Maybe it would have just been better if Hibiki’s assassin’s had succeeded.  Then he wouldn’t have to deal with soulmates or jealousy or this niggling feeling in the back of his mind that he’s missing some very important point that’s just out of sight.  A knock sounds from the door and it echoes in Akira’s mind.  Shiro swears under his breath and Akira can almost feel the tug of frustration in his fingertips.  It’s strange.  He’s not frustrated at all.  But he is.

 

He doesn’t like these strange threads of emotions that aren’t his swirling around him and tugging at his thoughts and he knows exactly why.  Because he’s afraid.  Because his entire life Hibiki had told him how he was alone.  How the only person left that cared about him after his mother’s death, the only person who truly cared and had his best interests at heart and not just what was best for the kingdom, was Hibiki.  And now Hibiki is being escorted out of Maylen after attempting to ruin Kiyo’s future reign and attempting to assassinate Kiyo and Akira both after he was finished using Akira as a pawn.  He’s being forced to wonder if the only person he thought cared about him really cared at all and confront the possibility that the parts inside him he felt were broken were never even chipped, just hidden deeper than he realized.

 

Someone kneels in front of him again and he blinks hard to bring the bright blue eyes into focus.  It’s Nitori this time, not Shiro.

 

“Hey,” Nitori says kindly.  He gives Akira a soft smile.

 

“Hello.”

 

Nitori stares up at him in silence for a minute.  Then he sighs softly with that small smile on his face still.

 

“You know how where we’re from soulmates aren’t really a common thing right?  That finding your soulmate is practically unheard of?”  Akira nods.  Ryuu had mentioned something like that a few times while they sparred and shared breakfast in the mornings.  “I never imagined I’d find mine.  Pushed it aside and wrote it off as some folklore sort of thing.  But then that moment happened.  We met under the perfect circumstance in the strangest combination of events and now I have people who know me just as well as I know myself.  People who dig under my skin when I feel sad and add steel to my bones when I feel weak.  But you want to know the most important thing I’ve learned about having a soulmate?”  Akira nods again.  “You’re never alone.  You might close a door or window on them.  But they’re still there.  Waiting for you to let them back in.”  Nitori smiles at him again and pushes to his feet.  He starts to move away but pauses and leans in close to whisper so only Akira can hear him.  “They need you as much as you need them.  That’s actually the most important thing I learned.  So let them back in, Prince Akira.”

 

Akira’s breaths are shuddering as he watches with glossy eyes as Nitori crosses the room and shuts the door without looking back.

 

The latch on the door clicks into place and Akira feels himself shatter.

 

 

_ Do you have any idea what he said? _

 

_ You’re the one Nitori’s so attached to, my angel.  I figured if anyone could guess what he said it would be you. _

 

_ You, my Sweet, need to drop the attitude for a few minutes please.  I’m still a little upset over someone trying to kill you I don’t need your panicked sass right now. _

 

_ Well too bad.  You’re getting it anyway.  I’m kind of panicking still over almost being killed.  So suck it up. _

 

 

_ Can you both please lower the volume or whatever it is you need to do to be quieter.   My head hurts enough already. _

 

Kiyo and Shiro both snap their gazes to Akira.  Kiyo’s still sprawled on the couch but now he’s wearing a hopeful smile.  Shiro tilts his head curiously from his place back on the floor in front of them when Akira gives them both a tired turn of the lips in an attempt to smile.  Kiyo reaches out and pointedly takes Akira’s hand, twining their fingers together before bringing them to his lips and kissing the back of Akira’s hand.

 

“Hey soulmate,” Kiyo says quietly.  

 

Shiro drops his head onto Akira’s knee with a sigh of relief when Akira whispers back, “Hello, soulmates.”


	16. momo and the horrible no good very bad day

There is never an easy way to go about having a crush and Keiji has come to accept this, albeit unhappily, be he’s accepted it.  He’s also accepted that he apparently winds up getting a crush on nearly every single person he manages to become friends with, and even some he’s nothing close to friends with at all.  It’s a curse as much as it is a blessing considering how many of his friends are already in relationships of one kind or another.

 

The breath is knocked out of him when Suga’s kick catches him squarely in the chest in the middle of his musings and he stumbles until his back hits a nearby tree and he groans.

 

“Akaashi?”  Suga’s eyes are soft and warm and concerned for him even in the middle of their sparring session and that’s what finally crumbles the ground under Keiji’s feet.  That’s the final straw for him.  He can’t keep trying to build up his defenses only to be the one to knock them right back down when he inevitably trips over himself and goes tumbling head first into some kind of love the moment one of his friends is a little more than ‘just nice’ to him.  Suga’s hands linger as he checks Keiji for injury.  “I didn’t kick you  _ that _ hard did I?”

 

“Kiss me,” Keiji demands.  Suga looks at him questioningly.  “I’m tired of nothing ever going anywhere.  Tired of the little touches and the glances and the long looks where I want to shove you onto a couch and you look back like you want me to do it but neither of us move and I get it, I do we all have so much more going on right now, and I’m so worried about how it’ll change everything if I do it and I’m tired of not understanding where we stand and feeling like the ground is just going to collapse under my feet any moment and-”

 

Suga tangles his fingers in Keiji’s hair and yanks his head down, smiling sadly as his breath ghosts over Keiji’s lips.

 

“I’m tired too.”

 

Keiji’s eyes flutter shut as Suga presses him against the tree.  His stomach tightens in anticipation, ready for a kiss that he feels like he’s been yearning for for years now.

 

“Guys we have an emergen- oh shit sorry!”  Izuki snorts and slips back into the trees.  “I’ll be back in like two minutes.”

 

Suga’s forehead hits Keiji’s shoulder as he slumps against him.

 

“I am going to kill someone I swear,” Suga mutters.

 

“I’ll join you,” Keiji murmurs in agreement.

 

 

—

 

Momo had experienced worse days in his life.  But not by much.  

 

It started by him being almost an hour late to work because his alarm never went off that morning and it’s ending with the letter he’s staring down at.  Ending because he’s pretty sure as soon as he shares what’s on the note with it’s final recipient he’s going to be a dead man.  Which will suck cause there are a lot of things he never got to do with his life.  Like join Nagisa in a couple’s pie eating contest.  Not that they’re a couple.  Just that between the two of them they can eat a heck of a lot of pie and totally kick ass at the competition.  But his champion pie eating skills are going to be a waste.  Because Sugawara is going to kill him.  Because even though he knows Sugawara and Matsukawa aren’t dating anymore he also knows that they both care for each other a lot still: he was the one who had listened to Matsukawa’s slightly inebriated hour long spiel about how badly he fucked up and how he wished he knew how to find Sugawara again so he could properly apologize after all.

 

Sousuke, the kind friend that he is, has been watching Momo pace the hallway outside the bathroom for nearly an hour now, working up the courage to actually make the full connected call, not just the urgent signal from the crown pendant laying heavy at the base of his throat.  He can feel it there now warm against his skin with the tiniest pulse, a piece of Shiro left behind to keep Momo connected to wherever the others are and if he wasn’t so determined to keep them safe - and he’s done an excellent job on that hasn’t he - he would love to dig his fingers into the mechanics and science between whatever parallel or alternate universe his brother and the others are in right now.

 

But he had sworn secrecy, even when Nagisa had pestered him and batted his big eyes at him, even when Momoi had pouted and batted  _ her _ big eyes at him, even when his own mother had made comments about not hearing from Seijuurou in awhile.  He kept his mouth shut.  Kept enough distance from the others to claim he was busy a lot of the time when people wanted to get together and catch up (which he’s not stupid, he knows they want to grill him on where their friends had disappeared to and why they never seem to hear from them much anymore.)  It was a bit lonely which is why he’s so grateful that Bokuto and Hitoka and Sousuke decided to come back and stay here.  Even if at the moment Sousuke is doing nothing but watching him pace and tossing popcorn into the air and catching it in his mouth.

 

“You know,” Sousuke finally says when Momo reaches somewhere near the hour and twenty minute marker of pacing, “if you’re so stressed maybe you should go take a shower.”

 

Momo stops and fixes Sousuke with the kind of glare that he rarely ever uses.  The kind that makes him look just like his brother with every ounce of irritation behind it and Sousuke actually stops and sits up a little in the chair he had dragged into the hallway so he could watch Momo.

 

“Yeah.  So I can make the announcement naked.  My worst nightmare come true.  Thanks but no thanks.”

 

Why Kiyo had decided to make Momo’s bathroom mirror the means of communication between their worlds Momo hasn’t figured out yet.  Other than Kiyo is a bit of a brat and has a strange sense of humor.  He’s sure it has something to do with making sure their communications stay private or whatever but, really, did it have to be his  _ bathroom _ mirror?  Now every time he goes to do his business in there he worries that a call will come through and he’ll be listening to one of their voices chattering at him while he’s trying to pee.

 

“Hey,” Sousuke says when Momo starts to pace again.  He stands and puts his hand on Momo’s shoulder to still him.  “Hey,” he says again, “do you want me to tell them?”

 

“It’s my responsibility,” Momo whispers angrily.  “Don’t you remember what I said before they left?  ‘Trust me’ and ‘I promise I won’t let you down’ and all that bull.”

 

“They’re not going to be disappointed in you, Momo.  And besides.  I’m here too.  I’ve been here all this time too.  I’m just as responsible as you are.  Maybe even more.”

 

“Together?”  Momo bites his lower lip and glances up at Sousuke.

 

“It’s a tight fit to get two people in that bathroom.  But yeah.  We can do it together.”

 

So he presses his fingers to the pendant on his throat and recites the incantation that Shiro taught him all those months ago.  His eyes flicker to Sousuke’s in the mirror just before their reflections shiver and shatter and the image of Kiyo’s sitting room ripples into view.

 

Momo can’t look at Sugawara’s face, can’t even look in his direction, but he can’t look at his brother either.  His gaze darts around the faces in his mirror until he settles on Ai’s.  Ai he can handle.  Even Ai’s disappointed face is one he can at least stand to be subjected to.

 

Sousuke presses his hand against Momo’s back.

 

“Matsukawa’s been kidnapped,” they announce in unison.

 

 

 

_ To the delightful youngest Mikoshiba sibling, _

 

_ You don’t know who I am, I’m sure, but rest assured I know you and your little circle of friends rather well.  After our little squabble the night of my cousin’s wedding I am sure none of them plan on forgetting me any time soon either. _

_ By the time anyone in Maylen will be hearing of this letter and my actions it will be a bit too late to do anything much about it.  You’ve taken something from me so now I’ve taken something from you.  Rest assured I am not implying anything here.  I am telling you.  You shall regret your words and actions that night and the good prince Kiyo shall regret his choice of advisers and guards and perhaps consider keeping a firmer grasp on their rhetoric.  Especially when they know so little of the world they’re in now. _

_ Playing at princes and thrones and kingdoms and intrigue is a dangerous game when the pieces are living, breathing people and the consequences bleed out at your feet with gasps and gurgles.  I don’t need to hold a dagger in my own hand to break you, any of you, but I can. _

_ A quick head count will show you one member short from your group.  It seems the littlest Mikoshiba isn’t quite the same caliber of ruthless guard his big brother is just yet.  Matsukawa Issei is securely in my grasp.  I have no demands.  No ransoms to be delivered for his safe return.  There are casualties in this game and, alas, he is going to be one of them. _

_ His loss will be a reminder to all of you that this is not some weekend strategy game played by children.  This is real.  Our kingdoms may no longer officially be at war but we’re not at peace either. _

_ Say hello to your mother for me, little Mikoshiba, she’s a delightful woman and very kind to strangers who get lost while looking for old friends. _

__ __ __ _ \- Himura Hibiki _

 

 

Momo stares down at his bathroom sink after he finishes reading out loud, letter folded neatly and dropped on the counter.  He can’t look at any of them.  He only knows a little about what happened the night of Kiyo’s wedding and he’s not sure he wants to know any more than that judging by the way everyone starts chattering and leaning together and talking over each other.  He can hear his brother talking to him but he can’t look up.  Can’t respond.  He failed.  The one thing he was supposed to do other than just stay here so the others had an anchor to come back to was keep an eye on the other people here.  Not necessarily keep them perfectly safe but at least make sure nothing serious happened to them.

 

Sousuke ruffles his hair and snaps his attention out of his thoughts.

 

“Talk to your brother,” Sousuke mutters, giving his hair one last ruffle.  Then he’s gone and Momo finally looks into the mirror to see Seijuurou alone in Kiyo’s sitting room.

 

—

 

“I can not be a part of some rescue mission into Kasna Stron,” Kiyo says firmly.  He’s been listening to Suga unravel himself over this for the last few hours.  Ever since Momotarou had broken the news with that deplorable letter from Hibiki.  Kiyo wasn’t exactly surprised that Hibiki kidnapped one of the people left behind and was even less surprised to find out it was Suga’s ex, especially with the way Suga had torn him to shreds verbally before personally escorting him out of Maylen.  He had just hoped that any move on Hibiki’s part would come more than just three weeks after his failed assassination attempt.  That they would have a little more time to plan and set up safety measures and whatnot.

 

Suga gapes at him, words dying off mid sentence.

 

“What?”  Kiyo can see the rage and disbelief filtering onto Suga’s face and he sighs.

 

“The marriage just happened.  We haven’t had the official ceremony and party yet.  The war is still a recent memory for many.  The Prince going on a rescue mission into Kasna Stron would throw everything we’ve worked so hard for into chaos.  Rumors would fly.  People would think we’re trying to invade or start another war already.”

 

“He kidnapped Issei.  Because of me.”

 

“Despite being a massive pain in the ass Hibiki is fairly smart.  He knows there’s nothing I can do without causing suspicion, especially with my newly wedded husband recovering from his sudden illness and the people still being a bit unsure about him.”

 

“I am not leaving Issei there to be tortured and who knows what else.”

 

Kiyo sighs again, eyes searching the room.  No one really appears to be listening to them but after Hibiki’s words and the way he managed to plant so many people for so many years Kiyo isn’t sure who he can really trust other than the group he brought over with him.

 

“I understand that Suga.  But listen to me.   _ I _ ,” he stresses, “can not be part of any rescue mission into Kasna Stron.”  Suga glares at him a few moments longer.  Then his face clears in understanding and he startles in realization.  Kiyo raises his voice a fraction.  “If you would like some time to return to your world and spend time with your friends and family left behind I can certainly find someone to take over your duties temporarily.”

 

“I think I might do that,” Suga says slowly.  “It has been a bit more stress than I’m used to after all.”

 

“You should see if anyone else would like to join you.  Perhaps Akaashi or Tanaka.  And, of course, I’ll be sending Shiro with you to make sure you get back here safely.”

 

“Of course,” Suga answers distractedly.  “Thank you for your kindness and understanding, Prince Kiyo.”


	17. you don't get to kidnap suga's bf and live

The official story - should anyone ask - was that Akaashi and Suga wished to take some time off after the wedding before settling fully into their roles as Kiyo’s, and now Akira’s as well,  official advisers.  One last date with the freedom of being just themselves and not the names and faces attached to the prince’s wishes and demands and plans.  As a show of trust, Shiro would be going with them leaving Kiyo and Akira protected by Shiro’s handpicked second in command, Mikoshiba, and his preferred second, Nitori.  Of course unofficially there was also Tanaka and Kiyo could hold his own in a fight and Akira was coming along well under Tanaka’s, and now Kiyo and Shiro’s, teaching and there was always Karin who was determined to stay in Maylen until the official big wedding ceremony under the guise of simply helping Akira get even better acquainted to the history and culture.

 

All in all it was a nice little story and set up that gave no one any reason to believe that Shiro and Akaashi and Suga were currently trudging through the mud and muck and woods on a mission to sneak into Kasna Stron, find and rescue Matsukawa, and hurry their way right back out with no one, hopefully, realizing it.  Thankfully Akira had been more than willing to mention a few side entrances and mostly unused paths to look for once they crossed the border.  This was something that, as far as anyone outside Kiyo’s circle knew, wasn’t happening.

 

Because if it was happening and they got caught and people believed that Kiyo knew about it then it just might ruin everything that had been worked so hard for and ruin the peace.

 

“Do you think this is exactly what Himura wants from us,” Suga grumbles as they pick through some underbrush.  They’re less than a day’s journey to the palace that Akira assured them his cousin would be in and Suga wants to be there and heading back home already.  “That he did this just to piss off Kiyo enough to send us storming in?”

 

Shiro spots a small enough clearing in the bushes for the three of them to sit, knees bumping and elbows draping over each other’s laps as they pass around a canteen of water, and contemplates it for a minute.  He gets that far off look and Suga huffs a little and stares down at the bands on his pinkies.  They’re both steady neutral colors and they are a comfort but he sometimes wishes he had an easy way to communicate with the others and draw that comfort out.  Takao’s band shifts into a color of sympathy that makes Suga’s lips twitch in a smile.

 

“Well they think it’s plausible but Akira said that one thing that Hibiki didn’t seem to understand was that Kiyo isn’t the rash child that Hibiki thinks he is.  I mean he is a rash child at times but generally he is rather level headed and he definitely keeps his people’s best interests in mind no matter what he does.”

 

“So he does expect us,” Akaashi says.  “But he doesn’t expect us to slip in quietly.”

 

“I would say, yes.  That’s exactly it.  When he gets news the three of us are back in your world he’ll probably assume that we’re working on gathering an army or something.  Not that we’re already at his door.”

 

 

—

 

 

Keiji props himself against Shiro, cheek squishing against Shiro’s shoulder before he can talk himself out of the action and they watch as Suga paces around their small campsite a few times before practically collapsing onto the ground with a heavy sigh.

 

“We’ve been traveling forever,” Suga says petulantly.  And a little dramatically in Keiji’s opinion.

 

“It’s been, what,” he glances at Shiro, “not quite four days since we left?”  Shiro nods in agreement.

 

“Four more days that asshole has had Issei in his sleazy grasp.  On top of however long he had him before he even sent that letter to Momo.”

 

One day it won’t hurt so much to see someone he has a crush on still so obviously in love with their partner, even if they are supposedly broken up.  Maybe.  If he’s lucky.

 

Keiji feels Shiro’s body relax and doesn’t have to look up to see his eyes going distant as one of his soulmates reaches for him.  It’s tough when they’re far apart, he explained the first day they had been traveling, but it is possible.  It just takes a lot more concentration and they can’t really focus on their surroundings so he and Kiyo had only been using it to check in at night.  Akira had decided to wait until later to test out his limits.  He hadn’t wanted to accidentally distract Shiro in a critical moment.

 

Keiji figures he should feel proud of the fact that Shiro trusts them enough to zone out and talk to Kiyo.  But all he really feels is a yawning pit of self doubt and exhaustion that he had finally thought he had been getting around.  Suga huffs and drops to the ground on his back, looking longingly up at the stars; Keiji tries not to look longingly at him.  Turns out the only place Keiji had been getting to all this time he had been in Maylen was deeper in love with Suga.

 

“What do you suppose he’ll do once we get him back to Maylen?  What will you do?”  Keiji doesn’t want to ask, can’t even actually make himself say Matsukawa’s name for worry his voice will crack with distress.  This is so much worse than any of his other dumb crushes.  Suga rolls his head to the side to look at Keiji.

 

“I don’t know.  I haven’t seen or spoken to him in months.  I don’t know if he’ll be mad that he got dragged into this or if he’ll even want to talk to me.  Heck the last time we saw each other he could barely stand to look at me.”  Suga holds his hands up in the air and Keiji’s gaze is drawn to the colored bands on his pinkies.  Dark bands with thin pastel lines streaking through them that Keiji thinks means Takao and Izuki are fairly calm back in Maylen with just a touch of worry for Suga in their minds.  It must be nice knowing someone is always thinking of you.

 

Suga stares at his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers in the moonlight.  Then he finally shrugs and drops his hands back onto his chest.

 

“I’m not sure it matters because Kazunari and Shun and I are kind of a set now and they’re not planning on leaving me any time soon and the last time we saw each other Issei couldn’t even stand the idea that they were part of me.”

 

“Well then he’s an idiot,” Keiji mutters under his breath.  “And so am I.”

 

Shiro shakes himself away from whatever conversation he had been having and Keiji finally makes himself move and dig his blanket out of his pack.

 

 

—

 

 

Shiro knows the moment they hear the guards on the floor above them talking through the open windows about the prisoner they’d been keeping an eye on and Suga takes off towards the stairs at the end of the hall that it’s some kind of a trap.  That Hibiki knew they were going to be showing up, going to be sneaking in, and he has enough time to wonder if there are still people, perhaps hiding in the Queen’s inner circle still, feeding Hibiki information.  But then Suga is at the door to the stairs and Akaashi pushes him away from the window they just climbed through, murmuring something about keeping an eye on Suga, even as he turns to search out the passage supposedly hiding behind a nearby statue.  His suspicions are only proved to be true when he reaches the next floor two steps behind Suga and the voices are now coming from around the corner when they should have either been further away, judging by how fast they would have needed to move to be out of the hallway, or silent due to the noise of Suga’s uneven breathes and hurried footsteps.

 

The fact that he knows it’s a trap doesn’t keep him from chasing after Suga as he hurries around corner after corner as they’re lead through a maze of hallways.  After what seems like an hour of hallways and corridors and glimpses of empty rooms beyond doors left hanging open Suga rounds a corner and then backpedals so fast he nearly knocks Shiro over.

 

The two guards they had, presumably, been following are stopped in front of a closed door, heads close together and voices nothing but a quiet murmur.  One of them reaches out and knocks and then they’re both slipping inside.

 

“You realize this is a trap, right?”  Shiro is pressed close enough against Suga’s back so he can peer around the corner that he feels more than sees Suga’s shrug.

 

“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?  They obviously know we’re here.  Might as well see what they have in store for us.”

 

 

Koushi shoves the door open and waltzes in without care.  He knows what’s in store here.  Knows the kind of silver tongue that Hibiki will have.  Knows the wounds he’ll strike to reopen.  Shiro enters a step behind him and shuts the door.  Windows surround them, three sides open to the view of the kingdom, and Hibiki is waiting at the far wall, staring patiently out at the rooftops spread out from the palace.

 

“I am a bit disappointed that you weren’t here sooner,” Hibiki announces, unperturbed at their sudden entrance.  “It’s a pity that you seem more devoted to that little prince than to Matsukawa.  You might have been here in time otherwise.”

 

Knowing the kind of things he’ll say doesn’t stop Koushi from reacting to them and storming halfway across the room before catching himself.

 

“How do you suppose your beloved Issei felt?  His precious Koushi whisked away into a new world where he gets to cozy up with his new soulmates and forget that boring soulmateless Matsukawa Issei ever existed.  Thrown out like a bit of rubbish accidentally mixed in with your things.”  He glances over his shoulder and Koushi knows that one of them will never leave this room alive.  Hibiki is clever and cunning and sharp edges against more sharp edges.  The fake broken-dreams-and-bitterness scent that Koushi has come to associate with Hibiki is cloying in this room, despite the open windows, and he swallows down the bile that tries to rise as he takes a deep breath.

 

“It’s quite sad, really,” Hibiki goes on like Koushi isn’t just a few feet away from him.  Like he doesn’t see the dagger glinting in Koushi’s fingers.  “He seemed so eager to come with me when I told him you were waiting for him here.  Imagine his confusion when we popped back here and you were nowhere to be found and he was convinced he had just missed you.  Left behind yet again like some unwanted pet at a way station.”

 

He opens his mouth to reply and Hibiki turns to face him.  It must have been a signal because Koushi hears a scuffle behind him as the guards jump Shiro.  There’s a pained grunt that Koushi doesn’t recognize as Shiro so he keep his attention on Hibiki as he makes his way across the room.

 

“I mean, I have to ask for his sake - I have grown rather attached to him in our time together after all - as well as my own curiosity,” Hibiki drops his voice as he nears but Koushi doesn’t have to strain to hear the words, “did you ever even love him anyway?”

 

His dagger is in position and he launches himself at Hibiki before he even registers that he’s going to move.  His instincts to protect - protect Issei, protect Shiro, protect Kiyo and Akaashi and all the others left in Maylen, protect his heart and all the people that make it whole - kick in and override his self-preservation instincts.  In a move that would impress even Akaashi with it’s speed he has Hibiki out of the center of the room and shoved into one of the windows so hard he’s surprised the glass doesn’t fracture.  

 

The glass doesn’t fracture and neither does Hibiki’s disgustingly wicked grin.

 

“You know he’s quite certain you despise his very presence and never want to see him again.  He’s kind of a broken little thing now.  Just like Akira.”  Hibiki says it conversationally, like they’re discussing laundry or the weather, like he doesn’t have Koushi’s arm against his throat and Koushi’s dagger tickling his rib cage through his shirt.

 

“It’s a pity, really.”  Hibiki holds his hand up behind Koushi’s back and studies his nails with practiced indifference.  “Had you been here a day sooner you may have been able to get to him before he cracked.”

 

“Don’t worry about Matsukawa,” Shiro reminds Koushi as he knocks out one of guards.  “Focus on what’s right here.”

 

Hibiki hums and nods his agreement, still ignoring the arm pressing tighter against his throat.

 

“Oh yes, don’t worry, Sugawara.  The third member of your team is bound to stumble upon him eventually.  Akaashi, isn’t it?  Tell me.  Do you trust him?  Are you sure Akaashi was the best choice to leave alone to search for your lover?  Considering his, hmm, affections for you?  Are you sure he won’t just casually ‘miss’ Matsukawa’s quarters and leave him for death to find instead?”

 

“I would trust Akaashi with my life,” Koushi hisses.

 

“Ah, yes.”  Hibiki raises his eyebrows, knife sharp smile splitting his face.  “But would you trust him with Matsukawa’s?  Would you trust him with something that is more precious to you than even your own life?”

 

Koushi falters, just for the time it takes him to suck in a breath, and Hibiki finally reaches up and yanks his arm away.  At the same time he grabs Koushi’s hand, wrenching Koushi’s dagger from his fingers and planting it into Koushi’s shoulder in one swift movement.

 

Once, not long after the Himuras arrived in Maylen and the scent of a plot had been drifting under their noses Koushi had wondered if the Himuras could be shown compassion.  If they could perhaps be shown the error of their ways and redeem themselves.

 

The pain doesn’t register, not at first.  At first all he notices is the grin on Hibiki’s face and the sick pleasure in his eyes at the idea of hurting Koushi so deeply, body mind and soul, that he dropped his guard.  Then the sharp pain lances through his arm and Koushi whimpers at the pressure in his shoulder.  He grabs for the dagger, eyes wild as Hibiki grins wickedly as him and Shiro yells something in the background.  

 

There was nothing redeemable about Himura Hibiki in that moment, if there ever was, and Koushi knows exactly what comes next.

 

His fingers close around his dagger and he tilts his head forward.  Hibiki actually looks surprised when Koushi presses their foreheads together gently.

 

“No one,” Koushi grits out, “gets to hurt my friends, my soulmates, my boyfriend, like that and live.”

 

Koushi pulls on the dagger, catches Hibiki’s jaw with his elbow, twists his wrist and that’s it.  Problem solved.  One of them anyway.

 

He watches, eyes narrowed, as the life drains from Hibiki’s eyes as he paws uselessly at his throat.

 

The last thing that Hibiki ever hears in this life is Koushi’s voice echoing in his ear, sharp and seething.

 

 

“Well, that was unsanitary,” Shiro says softly to himself as he watches the dispassionate, almost clinical way Koushi yanks the dagger from Hibiki’s corpse and wipes it off with Hibiki’s shirt.  If he’s disturbed by any of it - the violence, the rage in Koushi’s actions, the sudden clamp down on his emotions - he doesn’t say anything.  Kiyo may not have necessarily been looking for a team of fighters and killers and those willing to bloody their hands when he nudged them together all those months ago.  But he found a few anyway it seems.

 

Akaashi may be the one out of them that scares Kiyo the most, like he said that day they sparred.  But for Shiro it has always been Suga and his seemingly perfect sunshine mask that sent tendrils of worry curling deep in his bones.  The depth of emotions hidden behind that mask, sinking deeper and deeper like a bottomless well, frightened Shiro to his core.

 

Suga sheathes his dagger and lets out one last shallow breath, eyes flickering across Hibiki’s corpse, before that mask slides into place as he turns to Shiro with a smile.

 

“Well our part of the mission is accomplished.”

 

“Our part?”  Shiro stares at Suga.  “I thought the only mission we had was to get Matsukawa?”

 

Suga smiles at him and nods towards the door.  “We better get a move on and find Akaashi.”

 

Yeah, Shiro thinks as he follows Suga out the door with one last glance at Hibiki’s corpse, Suga definitely scares him the most.

 

 

 

 

Keiji is starting to debate the merits of just leaving Matsukawa behind.  Just telling the others that ‘oh darn Hibiki must have killed him before we got there oops?’ because if he has to put up with the guy much longer he is going to do something reckless.  Like kill him.  Or kiss him.  He’s not sure which just yet.  He wants to beat some sense into him because this is the guy that Suga still loves.  This snarky asshole with his messy hair and lazy smile even when Keiji’s pretty sure the guy has at least one broken rib and sprained ankle.  This asshole who is still making jokes despite being in a decent amount of pain.  This asshole who fucking let Suga walk out of his life without even trying to stop him and yet Suga was still willing to go through all the obstacles they had faced just to get here and rescue his sorry ass.

 

Matsukawa’s foot hits the doorway that Keiji is helping him limp through and he hisses.  “I know this is a rescue mission and that I am a rather strapping young man and all but do you think you could be a touch gentler?  I, for one, am not made of sterner stuff than most and they haven’t exactly been nice to me here.”

 

Out of everything else Keiji hates that Matsukawa still has the energy and the will to make jokes and sass at him.  He’s been obviously beaten and possibly tortured a little for whatever reasons Hibiki made up.  Probably just a normal Tuesday afternoon for Hibiki or something.  But here Matsukawa is, joking like he’s experienced little more than a bad tumble down a hill with a rough landing.  

 

Keiji acknowledges that apparently he’s doomed to collect crushes on the people around him the way some people collect pens: you never realize you have them until one day you open your drawer and there’s twenty of them just rolling around.

 

“I swear one more word and I will leave you here, rescue mission or not.  I didn’t knock out three guards and sneak into your rooms to be sassed like this.”

 

Matsukawa freezes and then extracts himself from Keiji’s careful grip and sits almost delicately on a nearby window ledge.

 

“Okay fine.  It was nice to meet you.”

 

Keiji stares at Matsukawa.  Was he-?  Did he really just-?  Fucking hell no wonder Suga loves this bastard so much.

 

A door at the end of the hallway bangs open and Keiji tenses at the sound of armor and then he’s launching himself across the hallway and knocking Matsukawa out the open window.  He slaps his hand over Matsukawa’s mouth when they hit the ground and a pained yelp tries to slip out.  The clanking armor approaches the window and Keiji rolls them towards the wall until they’re tucked up against it.  He just hopes that if the guard or soldier or whoever looks out the window the vines and bushes against the wall will shield them from view.  Despite all his big talk it was just that: talk.  He wasn’t actually planning on killing anyone today, or ever if he could help it honestly.  He can feel Matsukawa’s breath brushing against his fingers and Matsukawa’s heart beat is fast but steady under Keiji’s cheek.  Once the telltale clank of armor fades away and they hear another door in the hallway shutting Keiji finally relaxes and rolls himself off of Matsukawa.

 

 

Keiji tells himself he doesn’t miss the sturdy support of Matsukawa’s chest under his cheek or the warmth of Matsukawa’s hand on his waist from when they had rolled into the wall.  He also tells himself that he isn’t pleased by the way Matsukawa trusts him so easily, even when he tackles him out windows and presses him into darkened niches and drags him through bushes and brambles towards the small orchard that Shiro had decided on as a meeting spot should they get separated.

 

He’s happy at the look of amazement and joy on both Matsukawa and Suga’s faces when the others slip into the orchard.  He’s excited for Suga when he throws himself at Matsukawa and the latter catches him, even if he looks a little pained at the impact to his ribs.  He gives a small smile to the knowing look Shiro flashes him and shakes his head.

 

He really is happy for his friend.

 

Now if only Keiji could get himself to actually believe his own lies he’d be doing pretty swell.


	18. the final countdown

Their trip back to Maylen is three days longer than their trip to Kasna Stron had been.  Three days more that Keiji spends pretending he isn’t staring too much at Suga and Matsukawa and their nearly newlywed level of bliss.  Three extra days he doesn’t watch the way the bands on Suga’s fingers swirl colors in concern from his soulmates before finally settling into a calm, tentatively happy shade, and that he doesn’t spend contemplating how he already knows Suga and the others well enough to read their colors’ meanings from five feet away.  Three extra days he manages to avoid Shiro’s too knowing smile and too understanding eyes.

 

Two and a half extra days, he amends as the spots the tip of Maylen’s tallest guard post come into view and Shiro sidles up to him and throws an arm over his shoulder.

 

“Can we just skip whatever heartfelt speech you’re going to try and give me and let me tell you it’s been a wonderful chat and that I’m feeling great?”

 

“Nope.” Shiro shakes him gently side to side.  “I am passing you the emotions baton.  Metaphorically speaking,” he adds at Keiji’s pointed look to his empty hands.

“Emotions baton.”

 

“You didn’t hear about that from Aomine?  I’m pretty sure he threatened to shove it down Kiyo’s throat.  Or something.”

 

“Aomine and I don’t really sit down for chats.”  Keiji tries to shake off Shiro’s arm but Suga glances back and gives them such a brilliant smile that Keiji forgets what he was doing for a moment and in that moment Shiro tugs him even closer, as close as they can get while still walking forward, and Keiji gives in to the parental look of pride Shiro gives him.

 

“So here’s the thing.  I’ll give you the shorter version cause I know as soon as we pass the gate you’re gonna be gone.  I’ve seen the way you look at Suga.  I’ve seen the way he looks at you.  I’ve seen you two together sparring and talking and working with Kiyo.  The looks he gives you?  They’re not the looks from someone who is going to drop you now that boyfriend over there is back in the picture.  If anyone would understand how shitty a move that would be I’m pretty sure it would be Suga.  Just, I dunno.  Give him a chance to get past this little bliss bubble he has now that we’re back and remember who was there for him since you all came over.  I don’t know how Matsukawa is gonna act when he sees how comfortable Suga has gotten with his soulmates or, and I’m not gonna lie, how comfortable he is with you.  Just remember that Suga does care for you and he’s just been given something he never thought he would get to have back.  So he might be a touch childish about it for a few more days.”

 

They slip through one of the small side gates back into the main grounds of the town surrounding the palace and Keiji is relieved that Shiro drops his arm.

 

“It’s been a wonderful talk.  I feel great now.  Thanks bye.”

 

Keiji takes his time wandering back to the palace, steering clear of the areas he knows he’ll find the townsfolk, and once he makes it back to the palace grounds he steers clear of anywhere he might run into one of his friends who will, no doubt, ask about how things went.  The last thing he wants to do right now is  _ talk _ about his feelings or talk about Suga finding Matsukawa again and their deeply in love looks the entire trip back or talk about whatever Suga did that put that contemplative look on Shiro’s face when Shiro thought no one was watching him.

 

Eventually he winds up curled up in Kuroko’s bed, exhausted, and he falls asleep not long after his head hits the pillow.

 

 

Keiji expects to hear Kuroko in the room when he wakes up.  Maybe with Aomine hanging around - he didn’t lie when he told Shiro they don’t chat but Aomine is often at the periphery of his and Kuroko’s time together here in Maylen - and, at most, Tachibana as well since he spent a lot of time with his soulmate.  Honestly with Tachibana and Sawamura’s affections towards Aomine one would think Aomine would be less of an ass.  One would  be wrong.  But one would think it.  

 

Speaking of asses, he doesn’t expect to wake up to the sound of Kuroo’s obnoxious braying laughter and Azumane shushing him to no avail.  But, unfortunately, he does.

 

“Can someone please take the donkey outside and shoot him?  I’d like to go back to sleep.”  His voice is gritter than he expected it to be and he wonders how long he slept for.

 

“I dunno I think his laughter is kind of cute,” Azumane supplies, unhelpfully, as Keiji struggles to sit up.  His limbs feel like they weigh a ton each.  He either did not move once he was under the blankets or he’s been asleep far too long.  He tries to give Azumane a scathing look but he’s pretty sure it falls short of the mark considering the dopey smile Azumane gives him in return.

 

“Please never let me be stupidly in love.”

 

“Too late.”  Kuroo smirks at him.  “I’ve seen you eyeballing Suga.”

 

“No.”  Keiji gives up on sitting and flops back onto the mattress.  He’s not doing this.  Not today.  Maybe not ever.

 

“Sorry,” Kuroo sounds far too gleeful to really be sorry.  “I don’t make the rules.”

 

“I think I liked you better when you were a coward,” Keiji tells his pillow sullenly.

 

The silence in the room is brittle and Keiji almost thinks about taking it back.  Almost apologizes and asks for forgiveness.  But then Kuroo takes a deep breath and blows a raspberry in Keiji’s direction.

 

“Harsh,” he says eventually.  “I really could hit you for that one but I promised Kuroko I would be nice to you.”

 

“Oh fuck just take  _ me _ outside and shoot me instead.  You being nice to me is frightening.”  Azumane makes a concerned noise that has Keiji rolling his face from his pillow to raise an eyebrow at him.  “Kuroo and I have an understanding.  Nice isn’t really our thing unless one of us is apparently going through a life changing near crisis and no this is not a crisis Kuroo this is not some redemption arc for my shitty attitude don’t even open your mouth.”

 

Kuroo stares at him and Keiji stares back.  This is not some after school special where all they have to do is talk about their feelings and everything will turn out all peachy.  Peachy and nice and sweet are not things that happen in Keiji’s life.

 

Azumane clears his throat and leans forward so he blocks their view of each other.  “We were actually waiting for you to wake up to see if you felt up to helping with some wedding party preparations.  While you were, uh, gone Kiyo and Akira decided that it would be a good time to go ahead and start getting things ready for their ‘official’ wedding now that Akira feels more acclimated to Maylen.  And as one of his closest advisers Kiyo was hoping you wouldn’t mind being involved with some of the plans and setup.”

 

“Let me guess.  I’ll conveniently be working with one of his other closest advisers and someone will, I don’t know, accidentally lock Suga and I in a closet til we talk about things and start making out.”

 

At least Azumane has the grace to flush at the comment though he does give Keiji a rather exasperated look before he shakes his head.

 

“Actually I think he was planning on having you, Kageyama, and Kuroko work on sorting out some of the seating arrangements for the guests at the party since you three have the best grasp on the politics of who sits where or something.  Kuroo, Nitori, and Suga will be working on getting the invites delivered and collecting pre-ceremony gifts and well wishes.  Some of us are going go to be doing decorations and supply runs and food and a bunch of other stuff.”

 

“How long do we get til the big day?”

 

“A week from yesterday.”

 

Keiji takes a deep breath and sits up in bed once again.   Kuroo leans around Azumane and props his elbows on the bed, chin in hand, and they study each other for a few tense moments.  Azumane looks ready to either jump between them again or run for a first aid kit, whichever becomes necessary first, and he startles a little when Keiji lets out a loud sigh and Kuroo laughs at him.  He’ll get through the wedding, like he’s gotten through every other day of his life, and then maybe he’ll actually take a trip back for a few days.  Just to clear his head a little and get some distance and perspective.

 

 

—

 

Asahi clasps his hands together and rests them on the table on the pile of letters that Suga had just dropped off.

 

“Suga.  Koushi.  I love you.  You know this.”

 

Suga pauses, already halfway to the door.  “Yes, Asahi.  I do,” he says, curiosity heavy in his voice as he walks back to the table.

 

“Then trust me when I tell you that you need to remove your head from your ass.”

 

“Excuse me?”  Suga looks around the room like he’s expecting someone to jump out from one of the heavy drapes or launch through a window to yell ‘Surprise!’ in his face.  Nothing happens though and he eventually turns back to Asahi.  “Is there something else you want to say to me?”  He finally asks.  “‘Cause we have like three days until the wedding happens and there’s still plenty to be done.”

 

Suga’s careful mask slips into place as he studies Asahi.  Asahi really hates that look on Suga’s face.  His best friend’s face is made for laughter and mischief and good cheer.  Not the harsh, stoic, blankness that’s been plastered on it off and on for the months since they met their soulmates.  Even now that he has Matsukawa back in his life and at his side, even if it’s been barely a week since they rescued Matsukawa, he still looks far too pensive and distant.  Like he’s still missing something in his life. That look gives Asahi the courage to say what comes next.

 

“Okay.  Look.  We both know how Akaashi felt about you, how he still feels about you.  And I know you were feeling the same thing and, even if you don’t want to admit it, you still feel it.  You do,” he insists when Suga opens his mouth to protest, “because if you didn’t you would have already said something to Akaashi.  But you haven’t.  You’re hesitating because you don’t want to lose whatever you were starting to find with Akaashi.  Which is okay.  But you need to get your head out of your ass and realize what you’re doing to him by not saying anything.  Because I’ve talked to him and seen him and, let me tell you Sugawara Koushi you are about a day away from him boxing up his feelings for you and locking them up and never looking back.”

 

Suga sinks into the chair next to Asahi with a pained grunt.  Asahi reaches out and starts running his hand through Suga’s hair, digging his fingers into his scalp from time to time, while Suga makes little distressed noises.

 

Some time later Suga huffs softly.  “What am I supposed to do?”

 

“My opinion?”  Suga rolls his head enough to look at Asahi and then nods against the table.  “Talk to them.  You don’t want to lose what you just got back with Matsukawa, right?”

 

“Right,” Suga whispers.

 

“But you don’t want to shut Akaashi out.  And I have a feeling if he boxes this up you’ll lose your friendship with him too.”

 

“But.  Issei.”

 

“Talk to him.  Tell him how you feel.  Tell him how Akaashi’s been here for you.  How you’ve grown together.  See what he says.  You’re not the same person who walked out of his apartment that day and he sure as hell better not be the same asshole who let you go.  Maybe this is a chance for all three of you to start over.  When you see where you and Matsukawa stand then you can see where you and Akaashi stand too.”

 

“How did you get to be so smart?”

 

Asahi leans in close and bumps his forehead against the side of Suga’s head just to see his tiny smile when Asahi whispers conspiratorially.  “Turns out being locked in a closet with my soulmate and the guy I am rather in love with gives me an interesting perspective when I see my best friend in a similar situation.”

 

 

—

 

 

The wedding is in two days and Kazunari and Shun are in a heated debate over which of them gets to explain to the princes that some local wildlife - squirrels perhaps, they aren’t entirely sure - came in and scampered all over their wedding cake and did some unsavory things to it and now they probably won’t have the one they originally discussed when someone walks into the kitchen, grabs them both by the elbows and drags them out the door and into the gardens.  It takes a dozen steps into the garden and three stumbles before Shun can yank his arm free and send the trio to a crashing halt.  Literally.

 

“What the bloody hell,” Kazunari says as Shun holds out a hand to pull him to his feet.  “Matsukawa?”  He asks incredulously.

 

“I want to talk to you,” Matsukawa says.  He’s still on the ground and Shun watches warily as he sits up and pulls his knees to his chest.

 

“I gathered as much by the way you dragged us out here.  Either that or you were planning on killing us and using us for fertilizer.”  Kazunari gets a contemplative look on his face.  “Which may actually be preferable to us telling Kiyo his wedding dessert is ruined.”

 

They stand in silence then, listening to the breeze rustling the bushes and a wooden wind chime clacking somewhere in the distance while Matsukawa bites his lip and, apparently, decides what exactly he needed to talk about.  Shun’s just about to call it a bluff and trudge back to the kitchen when Matsukawa grumbles at them.

 

“I thought you said he only had room in his heart to be in love with one person.”

 

Shun and Kazunari shared a confused glance and then Kazunari makes a face of almost glee at Shun before turning to Matsukawa.

 

“I said ‘right now’ he only has room for one person.  That was practically a lifetime ago.  I hope you’ve learned how not to be an asswad since then.”

 

Matsukawa huffs something that almost sounds like a laugh and Shun realizes this must have something to do with the elevator incident and that he probably should have gotten more details from Kazunari about what happened other than ‘my life flashed before my eyes he looked so pissed at me for a minute I thought he was gonna murder me and prop my corpse in the corner to ride the elevator for eternity’ and a few other dramatic things and demands for hugs.

 

“And it’s not just us anymore, Buttercup.”

 

“I know,” Matsukawa says sullenly.  “It’s just.  I don’t know much about this Akaashi guy other than he could probably kick my ass if he really wanted to and apparently that he and Koushi have feelings for each other.”

 

“If you want my opinion,” Shun breaks in, “talk to Sawamura or maybe Mikoshiba.  They could give you a better insight on the whole relationships with people who aren’t soulmates sort of thing.  Oh or even better talk to Kageyama.  He’s got a pretty nice blunt way of explaining stuff that even you should be able to grasp.  But bottom line.  Talk to Suga.  Talk to Akaashi.  If I see either of them looking the way Suga did before we came here then it won’t be Akaashi you have to worry about kicking your ass.”

 

Matsukawa stares up at him and Shun smiles sweetly back.

 

“And here I thought Koushi was the intense one,” Matsukawa mutters.  

 

Shun just grins and takes Kazunari’s hand to pull him back to the kitchen.  They had a dessert to save, after all, and they would find out eventually if Matsukawa screwed things up or not.

 

 

—

 

 

Keiji is no longer friends with anyone in this place.  Except maybe Karin.  She has yet to betray him and leave him stranded in some way or another.  She just likes to beat him up and lean against him while they bleed on each other.  She’s nice.  He likes her.

 

He thought he liked and trusted Shiro.  He thought they understood each other.

 

Obviously there was a huge miscalculation on his part and he might have to talk to Kuroko about using their passive aggressive prank war skills on Shiro.  Shiro would look nice with his hair dyed neon green while he slept, Keiji thinks as he watches Suga step through the door and look around the training room in confusion.  Maybe he would look nice bald, Keiji amends when Matsukawa steps in behind Suga and glances around curiously.

 

“Matsukawa,” Keiji says.  It almost sounds polite and not like he’s trying not to throw up and scream at the same time.  He’s rather impressed with himself.  “Good to see you’re recovering.”  There.  Keiji can be nice and kind and concerned for someone.  He can do this.

 

Matsukawa blinks a few times in surprise and then gives Keiji a grin.  “Thanks to you.  I mean you did rescue me after all.  Heroic knight to my damsel in distress.”

 

Keiji can not do this.

 

He takes a deep breath.

 

“I have to go,” he says unevenly.  Except he can’t go anywhere with Matsukawa still standing in the doorway looking at him and Suga standing just a few steps away, also looking at him, and he can feel his stomach twisting into knots.  All he wanted to do was spar with Shiro like they always do in the afternoons.  Get a little frustration out.  Sweat out his worries and let them bleed away into nothingness that he could easily stuff away behind the locked doors in his mind and then he could talk to Suga and listen to his voice and even smile without feeling like his skull was about to split open.

 

He glances at Matsukawa and debates if he could move fast enough to just dart around him and squeeze between him and the door frame before either Matsukawa or Suga could react.  Then a quarterstaff appears in front of his eyes and he has to sway back and blink it into focus.  It nearly hits the floor when Suga lets go of it but Keiji catches it at the last moment.  He looks up, question of what Suga’s thinking on his tongue, and pauses.  Suga’s in a defensive stance with a second quarterstaff and Keiji mirrors him on instinct.

 

 

Keiji really isn’t sure what either of them are trying to prove or say or accomplish with their spar.  It had gone past friendly tension relief and a long practice and was devolving into an almost wild clashing of staffs and bodies and breaths harsh in the otherwise quiet training room.  Suga’s eyes are wild and Keiji is sure his are similar.  He doesn’t know the point of any of this and the one time he looked over at Matsukawa he found the other man’s eyes not on Suga but locked on him and he nearly took a direct hit across his face with Suga’s staff.  He hadn’t dared look again.  He didn’t need the distraction of the fluttering in his chest at the steady - and dare he say heated - look Matsukawa had been giving him.

 

Suga sweeps Keiji’s feet and he reacts a beat too late and he’s on his back, wind knocked out of him, before he can blink.  Suga taps his chest with the staff, their normal end of the fight move, and Keiji doesn’t stop to think.  He reaches out and yanks on the staff, sending Suga sprawling on top of him with a grunt.  He’ll never be sure which of them moves first or if they just moved together, but then they’re finally kissing and Suga’s fingers are threading into his hair and his fingers are digging into Suga’s waist.  Suga pulls back and after a moment Keiji’s eyes flutter open and they just stare at each other.  Breaths mingling and hearts beating hard against their chests.  Then, and only then, does Keiji remember Matsukawa is leaning against the wall watching them.

 

Watching them with caution and curiosity but not anger or possessiveness.

 

“Well?”  Suga finally breaks the silence and Keiji feels his cheeks flush.  He didn’t even realize that he had been staring at Matsukawa.  Though to be fair Matsukawa had been staring back.  A slow smile slides onto Matsukawa’s face and Keiji admits to himself that he may never recover if this doesn’t go the way he’s hoping it does.

 

“Well don’t expect me to kiss Akaashi.  I barely know him yet.”

 

The smile that lights up Suga’s face is a thing that Akaashi would do many, many things of questionable morals to see there all the time.

 

“I guess I’ll just have to be the one to kiss him until you get to know him better.”

 

“I like the sound of that.”  Keiji finally remembers that he does indeed have the ability to use words.  “A lot.”


	19. onward to the next adventure

The ceremony starts at dawn, as is customary with proper Maylen weddings, and it is late in evening the before it is finally finished and the last of the crowd has given their personal congratulations to the couple.  As is customary with weddings in Kasna Stron the couple sits, not on a dais above their guests but at a table in the center of the crowd.  And as is customary among people who love their rulers as much as the people love Kiyo and, by extension, Akira it takes the couple nearly an hour for them to reach the table their closest advisers are already seated at.

 

Kiyo finally takes his place at the table, with Akira on his left and Shiro on his right, and raises his goblet to the crowd.

 

“When we first married the priest said something to us that stuck with me.  He said that ours was a union of two hearts, two souls, and two kingdoms.  But looking around, today especially but every day since then, I see that this is never what it was.  Two kingdoms, maybe.  But never two hearts or souls.  Each person I meet, each person I pass on the street, each merchant or baker or teacher I see.  We’re all a part of the kingdom.  Our kingdoms are nothing without each and every soul and heart living on our lands.”

 

Akira squeezes his hand and raises his own goblet, soft voice commanding the crowd’s attention.  “With that in mind we would like to thank you all for coming to celebrate our marriage, once again, and for the trust you have in us to take your hearts and souls and lives and care for them as if they were our very own.”  He turns to smile at both Shiro and Kiyo, contentment etched into his face.

 

“To Kiyo and Akira, our princes,” Shiro calls out as he raises his own goblet, silver bracelet flashing in the last of light of the sunset.  “To my Sunshine and my Moonlight,” he says softly as the rest of the crowd cheers and echoes his sentiment, “may you be the only people to possess me, heart body and soul.”

 

“Sap,” Akaashi mutters from his spot next to Shiro who turns to look at his and Suga’s fingers twined together on the table while Suga’s making kissy faces at Matsukawa seated at the next table over.

 

“Really?”  Shiro grins at Akaashi.  “You want to go there?”

 

“I would tell you three to get a room but I really prefer not to find out about your activities in the form of giant hickeys all over my thighs.  Again,” Kuroko says as he appears, face suddenly looming between Akaashi and Shiro’s shoulders.  “I’d really rather not know about them at all if possible.”

 

Shiro and Akaashi both suck in a deep breath of surprise.  Kiyo and Akira barely glance their way before continuing whatever conversation they were deep into with Tanaka who was seated next to an amused looking Karin who had to keep leaning out of the way of his excited gestures.

 

“Was there something you needed other than scaring the crap out of us?”

 

“There’s a messenger with something important to tell the princes.  Akira especially it seems.”  Kuroko raises his brows slightly and nods towards the entryway to the courtyard.  “Something about his cousin is all they would share with me.”  Akaashi squeezes Suga’s hand and he looks over in confusion as Shiro beckons to the shrouded figure waiting just outside the entry.

 

The messenger slips through the crowd almost silently and sidles up to Kiyo’s table, bowing nervously at the princes.

 

“I do not wish to be the bearer of bad new on a day as joyous as this for our kingdoms,” the messenger says, voice barely above a whisper.  “But this can not wait.  I regret to inform you, Prince Akira, that your cousin, Hibiki, has been found dead.  Murdered deep in the inner palace on the highest floor in his private study.  We believe it is an assassin due to the nature of his wound and the fact that no one seems to have seen or heard anything.”

 

Akira takes a steadying breath.  “When did this occur?”

 

“We believe it was sometime in the last week.  The exact time was hard to discern due to the way his study is - was - open to the elements and the fact that as of late he had grown a bit reclusive.  Many of us believed he missed you after your wedding and without your presence to guide him he seemed to have lost himself a bit,” they added.  Then bowed deeply as if they had crossed a line.  “Forgive me.  You want just the facts, I’m sure, not my speculations.”

 

“That’s alright,” Akira answers distractedly.  “I suppose this would be the reason my cousin never accepted our invitation for today’s festivities.”

 

The messenger bows deeply one last time.  “My condolences on your loss.  I will leave you now but should you need to send a return message to Kasna Stron’s advisers I will be staying at Orchard Inn for the evening before returning tomorrow.”

 

Akira nods and then the messenger is gone and the princes’ table is silent.

 

 

They don’t speak of it throughout the party.  They laugh.  They dance and sing along to songs they don’t know.  Guests filter out through the night with hearty goodbyes and well-wishes until the moon is high in the sky and their small circle finally retires to Shiro’s rooms.

 

It’s not like they haven’t talked about it.  Haven’t discussed how things might go once Hibiki was discovered.

 

It’s just that it’s real now.  Akira had accepted Hibiki’s death when Shiro had debriefed Kiyo and himself.  He had mourned the loss of his cousin, his brother from childhood, and had spent a few long days and nights tucked away under the apple trees near the river alone, save for the few times he allowed Ryuu or Suga to join him.  He would have thought it would be harder to sit next to the man who killed his cousin.  But Suga’s presence was a comforting reminder that he had people who would risk their lives for him, who would protect him, even if he didn’t necessarily need them to.

 

 

It’s Suga, now, who drops the subject they’ve been tiptoeing around the last half hour that they’ve spent crowded in Shiro’s sitting room.

 

“So what does this mean for Kasna Stron now?  They need a leader of some sorts, don’t they?”

 

“I’m not going to ask to leave,” Akira immediately answers.  “Nor am I going to ask Kiyo to leave.  This is his home.  These are his people.  He’s next in line to lead them and I am not taking a capable leader from them just because the kingdom my cousin has tried to turn against me is suddenly leaderless itself.”

 

Akira drops onto the couch between Shiro and Kiyo.  Kiyo looks up at his sister and bites his lip while he thinks through whatever he’s about to say.

 

“I don’t want to pressure you but it’s up to you, Akira.  Technically, yes, I am next in line here.  But I do have a sibling who is also capable enough of taking the throne after my mother steps down.”

 

Akira looks over at Karin, studies her face while he mulls over Kiyo’s words and everything else he’s sending Akira through their bond.  “But what about where she is now?” He finally asks.  “Her husband?  Their kingdom?  Their life over there?”

 

“Noburu is also the younger sibling in his family,” Shiro explains softly.  “So he and Karin are both actually second in line to step into the role in their respective kingdoms.  So they could feasibly move here without too much of a fuss should everyone agree to it.”

 

Karin shrugs at the questioning look Akira gives her.  “Noburu isn’t especially attached to his kingdom, as the younger sibling he never really expected to be in charge, so I don’t think that coming here would really be much of a hardship for him.  If this is something you want to do I am more than willing to talk to him about it.  And I would be more than happy to return if it meant my brothers got to keep those dopey looks on their faces that they have when they’re wrapped up with you. ”

 

He blushes at her words and then turns back to Kiyo.

 

“Would you really do that for me though?  Give up your kingdom, give up everything you’ve worked for, just to start over?”

 

The look that Kiyo and Shiro share as they each bring one of Akira’s hand to their lips before dropping their gazes to him tells everyone in the room the answer.

 

“Well,” Karin leans against Tanaka’s shoulder and flashes an impish grin at the group.  “Looks like I might be needing a new inner circle for my upcoming reign.  Know any good candidates?”

 

The silence that had fallen over them holds for a moment longer and then snaps as they all start talking and making grand plans for the future and filling Shiro’s room with bubbling laughter and warm cheer.  It takes until the moon starts sinking to the horizon and the sun is threatening to peak up from the other side for everyone to finally fall asleep.  They’re draped and curled and sprawled across and over and around the couches and each other.

 

The sun eventually slinks into the room, warming patches of skin and carpet alike, and they slide into a new day.  A new adventure that waits patiently with bated breath as they slumber content in the knowledge that no matter where they go or what they choose to do, they’re not alone.


End file.
